I feel that I am about to commit a crime and may be shunned forever for what I’m about to say…
I don’t read fictional books.

There, I said it. It’s out in the open.

It feels good, actually. But why, you ask. Well, I put it down to having a very short attention span and a thirst for information and knowledge. Occasionally it’s irritating having my friends talk about all the books they’ve read, want to read, and are excited about the release of, and then they feel like they’re in heaven in a bookshop, while making me feel a little uneducated because I haven’t read these books, and to be honest have little interest in it

Sometimes it would be nice to share that interest, but, like talking about football with taxi drivers, I don’t think it’s something I will happen too quickly. Maybe never.

But I’m okay with that. I’m more interested in things that are visually stimulating. That I can touch and play with; interact with, if you will. I like to create; art and content. Communicate and share, meet people and learn out the world. I feel this may sound, to a reader, like I’m “dissing” reading – it’s difficult for it to sound otherwise, but of course I mean to disrespect.

I read. I read a lot. Sometimes completely elaborate and fabricated tales of the imagination of a person I have never met, often with little pictures beside them, but rarely in book form.

It’s just part of what makes me me, isn’t it. While my friends get in a frenzy over books, in a way, I do the same, only I’m not so worried about the words printed on the pages that fill the covers, but the structure and disorder of the bookshop. The vast array of disorganisation that lines shelves, floor, and any free space in The Bookstore on North Street in Belfast.

In answer to the question “How often do you get books in?” the man behind the counter says “Every day, it’s just finding somewhere to put them that’s difficult.” With almost every possible space filled with old and tattered books, it is surely a dream for anyone who loves to read. And sure enough books were bought by my friends who visited last weekend – including one book found at almost a third of the price of the same book in Waterstones.

I can’t fully answer the question of what future books have; I never made the “transition” from book to screen, for I rarely did the book thing in the first place. My favourite books have always been Matilda by Roald Dahl and ‘Goodnight, Mister Tom’ by Michelle Magorian. Besides a common ground on which to share nostalgic book memories with friends, I don’t feel I have lost out without that “book-lover” gene from my Mother. Having been told through school up that I had an exceptional reading age, I simply didn’t have the desire to read.

I would try to read [a book], but hate the long silence. Look around me and get completely distracted. Put on some music. Turn the music up; lost concentration on the book. Audiobooks aren’t much use either, As I’m usually reading something while at my computer (when I would be listening to said audiobook), I can’t concentrate on what is being said, and what I’m reading (or photo editing for that matter).

An iPod? Yes I should really have bought one of those 2 years ago after my first one broke, but I never got round to it – they’re perfect for podcasts and general spoken-work audio.

I guess I will continue to read all things non-fiction, and look at the pretty pictures.

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