World Book Day

Yesterday was World Book Day, a day dedicated to show the importance of reading to the general British public. Back in primary school, this day was up there with the greats; Christmas, Hallowe'en, Easter and finishing up for the holidays. It was an excuse to dress up as your favourite fictional character and, like the other 'greats', the normal school routine was ignored for the day. Choosing your costume, getting up early to get ready and recieving the famous 'pound off book voucher' was something that I looked forward to every year. As I have grown up, the novelty and excitement of World Book Day has sadly worn off and now if it weren't for the internet, I wouldn't even be aware that the day still exists. Its a shame that outwith primary school, not much is done to promote World Book Day and as an aspiring journalist, I think that more should be done to promote reading. Despite this I am ashamed to say that I cannot remember the last time I finished reading a book. Not just a magazine, but an actual book. Its not that I don't make an attempt to read, quite the opposite. I can't go into Waterstones or a charity shop and leave without buying a book, its almost an addiction. I'm attracted to the shiny new covers and the prospect of getting lost in someone else's world for a little while. But these books have filled four boxes in my bedroom, untouched and collecting dust. Even magazines have lost their shine. Every week I buy at least two magazines, including a glossy such as Elle, which costs at least £4, when I know fine well that I will get halfway through reading it, eventually lose interest and it will lie around my room for a few weeks after. Most of the time my mum reads my magazines before I even get a chance to look at them. In an attempt to justify this, I tell myself every week that I just don't have the time to read anymore. However, I am simply in denial. Like every other eighteen year old, I waste far too much time watching meaningless tv programmes, refreshing my facebook and twitter homepage, convincing myself that this is what i must be doing right now, or sleeping.

The last book I bought was The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Hailed as one of the 'best american books of our time' and a 'modern classic', I was instantly attracted to it. Saying that, I had already bought The Beautiful and Damned by the same author a few months before. Which is obviously untouched and collecting dust in a box in my room. I did manage to read half of The Great Gatsby a few weeks back before I convinced myself that I didn't have time to read it anymore. The usual routine.

World Book Day has reminded me again of the beauty of reading. There are many people out there who can't read or write and who don't have the opportunity to get lost in a truly great story. I'm lucky that I have the ability to do that whenever I want. I'm angry at myself that I gave up on reading and as of tonight, that bad habit is going to come to an end. Before I know it, i will have finished university, will have a full time job, be married with children and at that point I'll be able to say that yes, I actually don't have the time to sit down and read a good book. Some may call me old-fashioned, or simply 'grannyish', but who cares? I'm going to go to bed tonight and do something that I haven't done in years: finish reading a book.