Surprisingly enough, I couldn't find an appropriate 'technical' term for love of reading, not anywhere on the internet. Litteraphilia would perhaps do it? Litterophilia? Sounds too much like you love to throw your rubbish on the ground.
Anyway, I felt I did myself a bit harshly in the last post. I do actually love to read and certainly do a lot less of it nowadays because I am busy knitting. In the last three months though I have managed to read the following titles:
I really enjoyed all three of these titles. The 19th Wife is a whodunnit of sorts set on a polygamous compound in Utah intertwined with an early history of the Mormon faith. It turned out to be a bit heavier on the historical stuff than the whodunnit (I do like crime fiction) but I still found it very interesting and readable. 'One sect, many secrets ... and murder' - I mean, how could I resist?
The Lace Reader I picked up at Goodwill in Chicago (otherwise such a miserable thrifting experience) and bought it just because it appeared to be about lace. It was, partly, and also about memory and madness and family drama. I guess that it would fit into the psychological thriller genre. The plot was perhaps a bit patchy but I was so busy devouring it that I was happy to just read over the gaps.
And The Book Thief - a really big book. Long, full of big ideas and events and emotions. This was a wonderful read, I'm not quite sure that it was life changing as the back cover claims but it certainly has a great narrative perspective and the writing is evocative.