I wasn’t always a reader. In fact, as a child there were so many more things I would have preferred to do then sit down and read a book.

My sister, and my mum were both so concerned about this. And so, one of my most vivid bookish memories is my sister, nine years older than me reading a book by my bedside while I was suffering from some sort of sickness. Knowing me, it was probably pneumonia. That book? The Magicians Nephew. Definitely one of the books that changed me.

So without further adieu, my list. (In no particular order to be honest, how can I put one beloved work of fiction above another?)

 5. The Magicians Nephew by C.S Lewis

The second last book published in The Chronicles of Narnia series by C.S Lewis, The Magician’s Nephew is the first chronologically and the first book I read (or was read to me). At the peak of my sickness, my sister sat down next to my bed, and began verbally weaving a tale so magical that I wouldn’t be able to recall if the memory was real in later years. Or at least not until, in my haste to read more Lewis, I happened to pick up this very book.

This book was the gateway to fantasy for me, and it was so very wonderfully detailed that I would practically clutch it to myself as I savoured every single word on the page. It changed the thought I had in mind, that books had to be boring, and were all based in reality.

Favourite Quote:

“What you see and what you hear depends a great deal on where you are standing. It also depends on what sort of person you are.”

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