mostly david ephgrave

Last night I finished a book I’ve been reading for the past few weeks – and I only stuck with it to the end out of politeness. I don’t know why I didn’t give up on it sooner. It's probably partly attributed to my slight obsessive-compulsiveness; I don’t like starting something and not seeing it through. It also cost me the best part of a tenner, so I was determined to get my money’s worth. Part of the reason for my disappointment was I didn’t realise it wasn’t a full-length novel until I’d started; I’ve never really been one for short stories. I’ve been an avid reader for as long as I can remember – and always tend to have a book on the go. It’s how I unwind: if I haven’t had the chance to read during the day, I’ll always get through a chapter or two before bed. The last few books I’ve read prior to the one-that-shall-remain-nameless were Phil Kay’s autobiography (crazy and inspired), Ian MacDonald’s Beatles tome ‘Revolution in the Head...