The comfort reread, and what it says about your life right now

I have a small, slightly embarrassing ritual. When I can’t decide what to read next, I reread something I already know. Sometimes it is one chapter. Sometimes it is the whole book, like slipping into a familiar coat that still fits even if I have changed shape in the meantime.

This is the point where the productive part of my brain tries to intervene. You could be reading something new, it hisses. You could be expanding your horizons. You could be… achieving.

The book hangover, and how to live with it

There should be a better word for the feeling you get after finishing a brilliant book. “Book hangover” is the closest we have, but it is slightly too jokey for something that can feel genuinely destabilising.

It is that hollow, floaty sensation. The strange silence. The way you keep thinking about characters like they are people you used to know. The way every other book looks faintly irrelevant, like trying to date too soon after a heartbreak.