Although the paint has dried, the cushions plumped on the armchair and the first visitors have started to roll on in, we really couldn’t open the dogeared reading space without a celebration could we?! Welcome to… The Launch Party! Grab yourself a glass of bubbly (although of course a pot of tea is at the ready for those who want to keep things ‘dogeared’ style)
If you haven’t visited before, please wander round and make yourself at home. This is a space for those simply dipping their toes into the literary pool to see if they want to further dive in while also very much a safe place for those with book addiction, somewhere they can come and be amongst friends and share their ‘issues’ – struggling at work today as you only had 2 hours sleep because you had to finish those last pages? That is ok my friend, we will soothe and comfort you with our shared experiences, possibly becoming something of book pushers as we divulge the title that resulted in the dark circles under our eyes. So please, introduce yourself in the comments, share any favourite reads of late, or warn your fellow friends of a book that has not given you sufficient enough of a buzz – when bad books happen to good people I think we can all sympathise.
Like all good opening ceremonies we have started supping our champagne but really we need to get cutting the glorious red velvet ribbon to make things ‘official’, and heavens, you didn’t think little old me would be doing it did you?! No! Dogeared readers deserve the best, so if you could all be upstanding to greet our special guest who is going to toast our new home, the wonderful author of ‘Etta and Otto and Russell and James’, Emma Hooper! *room bursts into applause before polite shushing in anticipation of Emma’s speech*
“Unlike many other art forms like theatre, film and live music, reading is most often a solitary pursuit. Even visual artist often consumed in public, gallery spaces. There is something wonderfully insulatory about the solitary act of reading, a retreat, a comfort in oneself; however, there is something lonely about it too. To digest art is, very often, to want to share and compare, opinions, interpretations, ideas stirred. That is why forums like this blog are important. They give readers a chance and a place to turn this solitary act, at least temporarily, into a communal one. To achieve the depth of experience that sometimes only comes from sharing and listening and discussing. A wonderful thing indeed, like this blog, and all other forums and formats like it. As an author AND a reader, well, I think this is just about one of the best things there is. Long may this blog continue. Long may this discussion continue.”
Thank you Emma for your lovely words! It is true that this space can be all about community, although I may be the one tapping away the review you guys can make this space just as much your own by chatting away in the comments. If you are not so much one for typing out your thoughts, then that is ok too, read away and engage with this space as much or as little as you want to. Remember – you can also get involved with the content of the site, if there is a book you would like to see discussed, or maybe a list of great recommendations for Christmas presents, do not hesitate to give me a message and I will get straight on it! If you don’t fancy posting in the public comment section you can bend my ear using firstname.lastname@example.org.
Now enough of the talkin’ and time to get dancin’ (or to huddle in the kitchen discussing Anna Karenina – hard done by woman or just a bit of a whinge?), kick off your shoes and settle in for the night – just no drinks on top of the book piles ok?!
Until next time – happy reading folks!
Etta and Otto and Russell and James by Emma Hooper £7.99 (Penguin)
*Don’t worry gang, we will be hearing more about the wonderful Emma Hooper when I review her wonderful first novel. For more of her beautiful words you can find her on twitter @waitress4thbees or watch her performing, multi talented wonder that she is, in her band, just click here to have a look.