It’s that time of year again (summertime, holidays, excitement!) when I can hardly contain my inner grouch. Everything is a Buster ... bonk-, bunny-, block- and so on. Book lists proliferate, making it clear that a lot of people only read on a beach (or at Christmas).
I think beaches are for avoiding and Christmas is for grumbling. Reading, on the other hand, is one of life’s great pleasures and needs no encouragement. Just do it.
This summer my off-the-beach bugbear is Hemingway and can be summed up in a single word: Why?