Beyond the Edge of Adventure

I'm a disgustingly fast reader. I was reading Enid Blyton at age 6 and Carolyn Keene at age 9. I am absorbed by good narratives, often feeling connected to the fate of the characters and so my primary aim, of course, is to find out what happens to them in the end. If the narrative is good enough, I re-read it and absorb details that I miss the first time around. I started reading Redeeming Love on Sunday night - and finished it last night. That's a bit quicker than my normal pace, because a) I had the time to read, b) I enjoyed reading the novel and c) I wanted to finish it and post this review! So don't think I've given this novel a thorough reading. I mean, I read it - but not the delicate details. I didn't absorb all the romance and nuances completely. Redeeming Love enthralled and absorbed me. The writing style is emphatic, defined and moves at a good pace, yet is romantic and soft too. The plot is from the Bible, so it's a re-telling, really. It'

Oh, alright. I'll admit it. I'm a book snob. OK? I open the pages of every book I pick up to borrow or buy - if it makes it past my 'Title/Title Illustration/Author' filter, that is - and check the font size. If the font is too big, I put it back straight away. If it's small, difficult to read with lots of long words - I'm in. I love complex reading, big words and twisting plots. One of my favourite things to do is curl up in a warm, sunny spot with a book. Narratives absorb me. I find it very difficult to close the book, switch out the light and go to sleep. Just one more chapter.......one more....... Generally, I'm open to reading pretty much any genre. My favourites are period classics (Jane Austen) or action/detective novels (Robert Ludlum and Clive Cussler). I'm open to biographies, adventure, detective or action genres. I'll give anything a go. There is, however, one genre I have snobbed. Romance. Christian Romance, to be more pre

What's it like in a mental health facility? Strange, in a word. The ward is like an uncomfortable union of a hospital and a budget motel. When I went for my initial screen to see if I needed to be admitted to the AMHU (Acute Mental Health Unit), the Mental Health Nurse said it was lovely and she would be OK with her family staying there. Maybe it was me, but I wouldn't send my family there. This is based solely on my experience with the bathroom. There were no taps. To turn a tap on, I had to wave my hand in front of a little black screen embedded in a white light-switch plate on the wall behind the tap. The same for the shower. There were no little bits that could be taken off and used for cutting yourself. The shower head was a sort of rounded pyramid shape that protruded off the wall about 4cm. It was about as high as my collar bone. This is an important detail, by the way. Then there was the bench, which for some reason unbeknownst to me, was placed on the wall in