Disappointing books

I've just finished reading one of the books I bought to read on holiday. (I am incapable of not reading when I want to read.) It was called "Little Face" by Sophie Hannah. It has left me feeling disappointed as it was a great premise (a new mother swears her baby daughter has been switched with another child but no-one believes her) but let itself down by not fully developing the characters or explaining some of the plot. It has been a recurring feature throughout my life that I dislike books or films that don't have a satisfactory ending. So, for example, when Sam kept leaping in the last episode of Quantum Leap, or the last episode of "Life on Mars" when we found John Simm had been in a coma after all. My mum even tells me that when she read me "Little Red Riding Hood" as a child, and the end was "and she ran off home." that I kept asking questions; "where did she go, did her mum and dad meet her?"

One book I wasn't disappointed by recently was "Outliers" by Malcolm Gladwell. It is full of really interesting stories and theories about why certain people become exceptionally successful. Basically it boils down to having innate talent, which is nurtured by a supportive family, having a sense of middle-class entitlement(!) and a certain amount of good fortune. It says on the back of the book that it will encourage you to think about your own life story, and it has.

I taught myself to read by about the age of 4. When you think about it this is highly unusual. I was reflecting on it and had concluded it might have been helped by the fact that I had a dislocated hip as a child and was immobile, with both my legs in plaster, for about a year when I was 2-3. So that meant I did a lot of jigsaws, and had stories read to me. I also obsessively watched Sesame street, a show whose only purpose is to teach little kids the alphabet. (Apparently my mum and dad changed the time that we went to church on a Sunday because it clashed with Sesame Street!) But I was chatting to my mum about it and she said I was super-interested in books and jigsaws even before I had my hip operation. But I think it does align with Gladwell's theory; if I'd had parents who didn't buy me books and jigsaws, and didn't let me watch Sesame Street, then I wouldn't have learned to read so quickly.

I still think it's mad that I taught myself to read. Apparently the first my mum knew of it was when I told her that I wanted to watch a particular programme on tv, and she said she didn't know when it was on, so I showed her the tv listings page and pointed it out. Also I managed to almost give my granny a heart attack by reading a poem from her magazine aloud over her shoulder. I hadn't started school.

I still read books exceptionally quickly, in a few hours most of the time. But I still get annoyed by the rubbish ones. One of these days I'll put my money where my mouth is and write one myself.