I'm a sentimentalist.

Okay so let's get one thing straight. I'm one of those sentimental people who has the ability to fall in love with something in about three seconds flat. Whether it be a person, a material object or more commonly, and brilliantly, a line of a book. I have just picked up, and when I say just, I mean, like, literally (see my Instagram @eleanorward_ for evidence!) Rainbow Rowell's widely acclaimed novel Eleanor and Park. I have had this book, along with about half a dozen others, sitting on the draws beside my bed since around Christmas. The titles visible when I open and close my eyes, there when I wake and when I drift heavily off to sleep. There is absolutely no denying that literature may be my one and only true love. (Sorry, to anyone this may offend, it's nothing personal.) 

But seriously, it's amazing. That feeling. I can't describe it in clearer terms. I just read half a page's worth; an inserted extract before the novel actually begins, and that's it. I'm in love. Properly. Like doe-eyed movie kinda love, intoxicated, overcome, totally and utterly seduced with the words on the page in front of me. If you know what this is like, you'll be pretty familiar with the feeling. My smile is happily escaping from my lips, as I get ready to discover a book that has been flung into my grasp too many times to even count. Plus, and this is the obvious bit (and I can't even explain why) I mean maybe I'm a narcissist, but I kind of like the fact I'm going to read a book entitled with my name (even partly so.) Vain or what? Who cares, let's do this. 

You can very obviously expect a blog post/review/babbling document as a follow up in time. Oh, while I'm at it, with books and everything.. I finished Nathan Filer's The Shock of the Fall today, and it's brilliant. I loved it. YOU MUST READ IT. Even @nathanfiler favourited my tweet about it, so y'know, he even knows how good his own work is.