The last few weeks haven’t been all fun and games. I haven’t been out enjoying the sun as frequently as I should. No, instead I’ve been working on my dissertation.
What am I doing? I’m writing an essay on the construction of narrative through surveillance and making a short film based on Nineteen Eighty-Four. Which reminds me, I need to think of a good title for it. At the moment, it’s “She Loved Big Brother” but I’m not particularly fond of it.
So, I’m editing the footage that I’ve filmed. I’m sure I’ll get a lot more over the next day. Film’s got to be complete by 31 July, that’s when I’m premiering it!
I had to share this. Because girls who read are brilliant (if I do say so myself).
I do feel like a bit of a fraud. I’ve only finished one book since January, Barry Miles’s London Calling: A Countercultural History of London Since 1945. In my defense, it was several hundred pages long (and I’m working hard on my degree).
But I am a girl who reads. A reader of fiction both literary and pulp (and where the two crossover), of histories (mostly pop), of biographies, of critical theory, of academic articles. And you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. As much as I love television, movies, even the internet, I wouldn’t trade reading for it.
Not reading for myself hurts. It aches as my brain grows weak, my attention span dwindling, when all I want is to read and find I can’t.
I still wander through libraries and bookstores, my eyes lusting over the beautiful book covers, the words on the pages…I long for the day where I can read for myself again (I may end up cheating a bit and reading before going to bed. All PHP and no books makes Beth a dull girl). Just today, I found myself at both Blackwell’s and the Edinburgh Central Library, perusing the shelves, holding books in my hands.
And yes, I gave in to temptation. I couldn’t resist. I never can. The printed word entices me, it draws me in, it is irresistible. I picked up a couple at the library, and am considering buying one for myself from Blackwell’s (Catriona Child’s Trackman). Perhaps as a reward for surviving this first round of submissions.
And, as a girl who reads, I have to say there’s nothing sexier than a guy who reads.