An Ode to Sophie Kinsella



Since I was a young girl I've always found my solace in reading. I was well acquainted with the staff at my local WH Smith, as week in, week out I would sit crossed legged on the floor with the latest Jacqueline Wilson read in my clutches, whilst my poor Uncle would huff and puff in the background, claiming I said 5 minutes, 5 minutes ago. 

After my too cool for school reading hiatus, in order to fill the Kathryn Lamb and Jacqueline Wilson hole in my life, I sought the shelves for something more age appropriate to match my new, self proclaimed adult status. After being hooked on the first few pages of Remember Me, I just couldn't leave the shop without it and it seldom left my side days after. The life of Lexi Smart was a much welcomed distraction in my life, I loved the talks of snaggled teeth, adventurous nights out, and as a teenager much appreciated the naughty words thrown in for good measure.

Many years later, these are still the books I revisit time and time again, and my eyes are forever glued to various book sites, anticipating new Sophie Kinsella releases to fuel my ongoing addiction. My favourite? I can't quite call it. It's a somewhat healthy addiction, if there ever was one.