There’s nothing better than the smell of old books. It’s why growing up, I always had my nose in a novel of course. I would walk class-to-class reading my book, sleep late and wake up early to read my book, have my book propped open in front of my plate when eating meals; as a bookworm, you don’t live in reality – you live in stories. At twelve and fifteen, I attempted my hand at writing two novels. Amateur writing, of course, but 50,000 bad words per book is a 100,000 words closer to good writing. 

And now…