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Under Milk Wood is meant to be listened to. It’s for voices. I started reading it but it only came alive listening to that Richard Burton version. Who couldn’t love Morgan the Organ and his liking for Johann Sebastian Bach. Every time.

I have considered Proust but I’m just not sure I’ve got it in me. I did have the most delicious madeleine earlier in the summer in south east France that gave me encouragement.

I gave up reading Dickens in the original text. I have read and really enjoyed abridged versions. I put it down to the originals being written for periodicals and so the cliff hanger element called for multiple characters and plots which for me didn’t make an enjoyable read. Perhaps it’s time to...

My sister in law used to buy me the Booker Prize winner each year for Christmas. I didn’t read Wolf Hall (not more from the well mined Tudor seam) and was about to give it and Bring up the Bodies to the library (unread hardbacks) when I thought it seemed a bit ungrateful not to give them a go...

We were going on a touring holiday and my darling had thought the time in the car might maybe easier listening to this. I anted to switch it off by the top of the M23 but we got as far as Leicester. Absolute codswallop to me.

Quite a few tbh. Sometimes books get written that I think should have been a magazine article, and I just question whether I’m actually that interested. Of course I am sure I have missed out on some classics but that’s ok.