LETTER Editor’s

It is fair to say I was a slightly odd child. There were my early years being obsessed with eating only macaroni cheese – from the tin, not from one of Italy's finer establishments. Then there was my delight in playing out entire football seasons in my head, marking down the results and league tables. I shiver at the thought of how much paper I wasted. Then, into my teenage years, just as my older brother was forever in trouble (he says he was just interesting), I was in my room with my head stuck in a book. I have always loved reading. My earliest memories are being excited at visiting the library to read another Roald Dahl book, although I now think the themes may have a been a tad too much for my young mind to stomach back then. The interest has evolved from horror to comedy, to true crime and now sports autobiographies – but I still can't get enough of the written word. I also take great delight in being able to read to others – my nephew loved it when he was a toddler, but now he's 17 and 6 foot 3, so a tad overgrown for it.

It's why I will always signpost wonderful events like World Book Day, which happened in March. Inside we see how several of our schools marked the occasion and look at how they encourage pupils to read. It's quite the story.

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