I love books. I’ve always loved books. Even when my love for reading was hanging in the balance while I was studying and I often felt uncertain about whether or not reading held the same place in my life, I still had a very tender place in my heart for books. In my times of doubt and fear I would surround myself with them and I would feel stable again. Books have always had the ability to transport me back to my grandmother’s living room, where I used to sit for hours on her plastic covered maroon couches and fantasize about my future big and beautiful life.

I have always found safety and comfort in books because they are non-judgemental and they never expect much from me except maybe a little bit of acceptance and to be held tenderly. And I somehow always manage to find a little bit of myself in each of them. It is through books that I have found the complicated sides of myself that is both bold in its presence and demands to seen and heard as well as a self-conscious aspect that is constantly seeking validation and timidly asking with questioning eyes; Am I being seen? Am I being heard? Am I being understood?

I have always liked that, like me, books are a story in a small space. They can be both boringly consistent and yet unpredictable. They are a good reminder that sometimes we are colourful and ready to paint everyone in our pathway with variations of yellow, blue and lilac. And that sometimes we tend to be that sombre period at the end of winter right before the leaves change back to a lively green and the flowers are still awkward buds and that are not quite ready to bloom. Books force me to dig into myself and face the fact that at times I am sometimes the friend you want to talk to over a delicious cup of coffee and maybe some of your mother’s home baked cookies that transport you to a simpler time and remind you just how delicious life can be. While at other times, I am that cold girl sitting in a corner clutching her cell phone tightly and hoping that her demeanour sends you running for the hills because she just wants to be alone. When I read complicated stories of complicated people, real or imagined, I find assurance in the fact that I too can be complicated. That I too can be temperamental, that I too can be a warm hug after a long day and that I too can be home. Books have always served as both a painful and comfortable mirror and reminded me that at both times in all my bravery and fearfulness I was being characteristically human.

I have thought about how I would get back to blogging after declaring bravery in my first post and then abandoning ship as soon as I got too scared and relegating myself to thinking about writing but never actually doing it. I think maybe I owe everyone an explanation but I am not yet ready to volunteer that side of my vulnerability so I thought the best thing to do is to talk about the one thing I can talk about for hours without feeling the need to shut my mouth, my great love affair with books.

2018 started with me on my couch reading Yaa Gyasi’s “Homecoming” contemplating how the smallest of actions can alter the course of not only my life but the lives’ of future generations after me. In the past few months I’ve forced myself to run back to what I love and to pinch myself whenever I have felt an ounce of complacency come over me when I began to accept things that did not make me happy. Sometimes I am successful and I do what my heart moves me to do despite my fears. Sometimes I fall in the middle of choosing neither bravery nor fear. And sometimes I give into my fears, fall and I find myself at a place where I have to once again remind myself to treat myself with the same patience I would a book would not entice me at the first read. Sometimes those are always the books with the best stories, don’t you know?

In the future I plan on doing book reviews (first one will be posted on Monday, so come back). Until then, here are some book recommendations for anyone who like me needs to find their way back to something they once loved:

1. For when you need a big cry:

A Thousand Splendid Suns – By Khaled Hosseini

I read this book in 2009 when I was not doing particularly well and this book made me cry out every single emotion I was feeling and all those that I had tucked away deeply in the corners of my mind and hoped I’d never have to face. I read it in a day and I am not exactly sure what it was about this book that hasn’t let me go. I think often about Mariam and Laila and I am transported to my res room at the University of Pretoria in 2009 when I decided that I would stop studying engineering, woke up the next morning and decided to move to Johannesburg. You’ll cry and maybe laugh but you will definitely be struck by the pages in this book.

2. For when you want to laugh out loud:

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? – Mindy Kaling

Disclaimer I am a big Mindy Kaling fan. I have adored her since she was on The Office and every other cameo she had in movies before (check her out in “The 40 Year Old Virgin”) and during The Office. With that disclaimer made I can now go on to tell you that this book is tears – flowing – laughing – out – loud – on – bus – and – not – giving – a – damn kind of funny. I read this book in 2014, at time in my life that felt like I was always on the bus and I read Mindy’s book almost daily after a long day of studying and it was such great comedic relief. If you love Mindy, or just laughing, this is definitely the book for you.

3. For when you want get into African literature and learn a thing or two:

Half of A Yellow Sun – Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

This was not my entry point into African literature but I think if you are a person who hasn’t read any books by African authors this is great way to get started. There are many reasons why Chimamanda is loved not only across the continent but across the world but for me the thing that stands out about her writing is her ability to write women characters that you will either absolutely love, hate or feel envious of. Reading this book I found myself wishing I had Kainene’s bravery and ownership of her own life. I was left wondering whether or not I would be able to be as caring and loving as Olanna was should the situation call for it. You will fall in love with how beautifully the book is written and you will mostly definitely find yourself piecing together different character traits of the two sisters and wondering where you fit in.