Diary of a Readingrat

Glasnevin Cemetery, Dublin

When the Dead are Walking

Valar morghulis – All men must die. If you haven’t lived under a rock for the past couple of years, you should be at least vaguely familiar with this quote from George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series and its TV adaptation Game of Thrones. For the purpose of this post, let’s just ignore Dany’s objections and understand ‚men‘ as ‚all living beings, human or otherwise.‘ The resulting message: everyone must die …



They divide books into delicious morsels ready to be devoured – and sometimes we decide to eat up the whole serving tray in one go resulting in a major hangover with the flavour of our huge disappointment that there’s nothing left. They help us remember where we left off – well, at least those people who have awesome memory. Everyone else lets the good old bookmarks do the remembering. They are wonderful excuses to procrastinate – „Just let me finish this.“ – „Only one more.“ – we’ve all been there. Sometimes, they make us tear out our hair because they leave off with a cliffhanger and we have to stop to do annoying real life stuff or have to read half the book to get back to this certain point of view – or even one and a half books, in case you’re reading A Song of Ice and Fire. They come in different sizes and even more shapes to look their very best.


Top Ten Tuesday #27: Books from My Childhood that Have a Special Place in My Heart

When I was younger, my grandpa read lots and lots of books to me: Erich Kästner, Otfried Preußler, Wilhelm Busch, Janosch, Paul Maar (basically all German children’s classics except for Michael Ende – I’ve never read a single one of his books), and Astrid Lindgren. Although there’s one or two I’d enjoy reading again, I’ve forgotten all about them. Seriously, I just had to consult Goodreads to come up with a list of children’s books that were read to me. I’m sure I loved them all very much – after all, they made me fall in love with the written word, – but they just don’t feel like „my“ books, because I never read them myself …


Pondering TBR Pile Peer Pressure

It’s 3 a.m. in the morning and Mama Readingrat’s paper children have kept her up telling her stories of their adventures. Now she puts them to bed and tucks them into the 21-stories bunk bed on the night stand, bids them good night, and turns to her blog, feeling tired and exhausted – because there are 21 of them, all vying for her attention. And that are only the ones closest. She loves her charges very much, all 1800-something (yes, she has lost count) – whether they are newborn babes or elderly ladies and gentlemen. As soon as she adopted them, they became her precious children and if she can help it, most will stay with her as long as she lives since she has a hard time kicking out even the ones that disappoint her. But with adoption comes responsibilities – and sometimes, those worry even the most lighthearted hamstering readingrat …


Signs of Life #1: Freedom and Prospects

And here we go again! Yes, I’m still alive. In fact, Ellie is freeeee! Yesterday was the last day of my publishing internship. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it and cried bitter tears to leave all those great people behind. However, the last couple of months were kind of exhausting, especially with the Frankfurt Bookfair and everything that comes with it. In my case, a really bad cold. But maybe I’ll write a recap or something in a couple of days because it was totally awesome! …


Confessions of an Addict: My TBR Pile

As you all know very well, my TBR pile’s huge. Okay, no, that’s an understatement. It’s 840 books ginormeous. Yeah, that’s right: eight hundred and forty freaking books of the about I-don’t-quite-know-whether-that’s-actually-correct 1,730 books I own are unread. That’s almost half of them …


Of Weltbild, Skoobe, and MVB

Maybe you’ve wondered what I’ve been up to this past month. Although I do blog very infrequently, I’ve never been so absent – except for the time I wrote my Bachelor thesis. So, where the hell have I been? Pretty much between the pages of those …

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