I love reading. Books are vessels that can inform, enlighten, delight, confuse and embolden. Reading is a beautiful gift, and words can form powerful, lasting memories. A good story can catapult us to other worlds, or sweep us along in the raging currents of someone else’s life. They can warn us of dangers from the past, guide us through the present, and offer us a glimpse at a possible future.
My love of reading goes all the way back to when I was a cub. The works of Roald Dahl, author of books like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Witches, James and the Giant Peach, and so many more. These tales were in various measures hilarious, poignant, tender and scary. My tastes as an adult tend to revolve around science fiction, and I have thoroughly enjoyed the works of David Weber, Peter F. Hamilton, John Scalzi, and many more. Ultimately, I owe every author I’ve ever read some measure of thanks, for without that influence, for good or for bad, I would never have become an author myself.
What I will gradually do, over the course of this page, is leave reviews of the books that I have particularly enjoyed… and possibly note some of the ones I have least enjoyed. This is obviously all subjective, and reflects nothing more than my personal view of these stories and works.