RETURN (OF THE KING) & HARD EARNED ELECTRIC PICNIC TIPS

After an entire summer spent in various parts of the US, I have returned home to a soggy Ireland. I spent my summer working in a camp (an interesting experience) and staying with my aunt and uncle outside Sacramento. I completely ignored this blog (and basically all forms of social media), partly due to a workplace that banned technology, mostly due to the fact that I was living with 11 nine year olds for 7 weeks. 

I'm still recovering from the latter experience,and making up for the former with A LOT of internet time. I am planning some new posts about my camp experience (if anyone is interested) and I hope to stick to posting once a week for the next couple of months.  

This friday will mark the beginning of my fourth electric picnic. I have been going since I was 16 and it never fails to be an incredible weekend. Over the last two years the atmosphere has changed a lot and a very different catchment of people are beginning to swap it for lack of a large 3 day festival alternative which is a bit disappointing. Adding to the are 50 thousand people going this year which is a lot more than usual, I am missing one of the main elements to festival enjoyment (shout out to a certain Aoife Mableson here), AND there's a hurricane forecasted. So, I'm being sound and posting some of my hard earned tips for all those brave souls venturing out for the first time, or third incase there is something valuable in them. Please tell me yours too!

1. Bring little packets of tissues instead of bringing toilet paper. because nobody want to carry around a full roll,and portaloos are not somewhere you want to depend on for anything. Ever. Portaloo's or portals as autocorrect keeps trying to change it to, which is accurate as they are portals into a world unburdened with the knowledge that dirt causes disease (or perhaps an alternative universe where pre-industrial revolution hygiene is acceptable) are not that unbearable until the Monday morning. No need to get worked up until then. 
2. It's possible to survive soley on nature valley bars and bulmers for three days, its just not pleasant  Bring portable food (cheese strings, cereal boxes, pringles) and your overall happiness levels will increase by 80%. Just make sure that its sturdy portable food, and prepare never to want to eat it again, or until you go to another music festival.
3. If you're drinking spirits, divide it out into 3 days worth while distilling it into your non- glass container. prevents spillage (thus saving you precious alcohol), prevents getting too drunk on one night and not drunk enough on another (saving you fun) and generally makes life a breeze. Also, don't mix vodka and raspberry isotonic drink because what you may earn in electrolytes you will lose in self respect and it tastes vile. And yes, I know that one from personal experience. 
4. Bin bags can be used for a multitude of things and will never not be useful. Some of these uses include the obvious- for gathering rubbish, to the less obvious (perfect seating on muddy ground, a temporary poncho, and my favourite- shoes) 
5. If you leave your wellies outside your tent they will be stolen and you'll have to resort to using bin bags to get you to the oxfam stall as mentioned above. 
6. Bring a proper camping mat if it's the only thing you invest in. Otherwise the ground will absorb all you body heat and you will be in for on of the coldest nights of your life and will want to go home. And don't rely on your air mattress because it will most probably deflate and leave you sleeping on said ground. 
7. When it gets dark it gets REALLY really cold. Bring a hat. Bring ugly, warm clothes. Bring a torch, and stay up as long as you can. Sleeping in the next morning when it gets warmer is much more enjoyable than being awake when its warmer. I went to bed before 5 twice in my EP career, once the first year when I was so cold I thought I was going to die, and once in my third year when I had hypothermia and the medic tent gave me a heat blanket (so it wasn't quite the same). The first time, I was so cold and kept up so late anyway by the noise I was considering calling my mother to take me home, and the second I missed out on everything so it was shitcraic either way, and despite an increase in temperature. 
8. Don't be a dick. Easier said then done, but try not to be a dick. Everyone just wants to have a good time, and being a dick brings out the worst in everyone around you. If the guys camping beside us one year hadn't been rapey, rude and aggressive to us and everyone near us, we would've helped them put up their tent and they wouldn't have slept inside it while it was flattened on the ground. When I was in the medics tent the medics were way nicer to people who weren't being aggressive and rude to them. The guards are nicer to people who treat them with respect, the bouncers are nicer to people who aren't giving them hassle... it all works out in the end.
9. Don't be an idiot. It is a music festival, and there are a lot of people who take drugs. If you are planning to, be safe. Every year I have seen people who have taken too much and put themseleves in potentially dangerous situations. There are loads of things you can do to make using drugs safer (This website has loads of tips). At best, you could prevent your friends being pissed off at you because you ruined their night, or save yourself from having a bad weekend. At worse, you could prevent yourself from becoming very ill. 
10. Blister plasters. Because whatever shoes you wear, you will get blisters. Its inevitable, and blister plasters can bring a weekend from a 5 to a 9 real quick. Free plasters from the Order of Malta can only bring a gal so far. 

So there you have all the tips I can remember before I arrive at EP and the really significant ones pop into my head again. Have fun, stay safe, and don't breathe while using a portaloo on monday. 

HOW TO HELP A FRIEND WHO SUFFERS FROM A MENTAL ILLNESS

One in four people will at some point suffer from mental illness, which can be really difficult when it's your friend (or you). It is hard to balance friendship and helping someone who is unwell. The most important thing is making sure that you keep yourself well. If helping someone with their problems is starting to impact your own physical health, you have to pull back and take care of yourself above all. 

I think the most important thing to do if a friend tells you they are suffering is insist that they need to get professional help. There is no way that you can make them better because you are not a trained professional and you are not a neutral party. Everyone needs to get stuff off their chest and talk to their friends, but friends cannot replace a doctors advice. Friends cannot perscribe medicine, or therapy, or diagnosis. When you are friends with someone you can't give them the proper care they need. If someone is refusing to get the help they need (and people will, especially when they are over 18 and can do so) it is not your responsibility to step in. However loyal you are to them as a friend, or however much you love them, insist they get help or step back (easier said than done). It is not selfish to be unwell, but it is selfish to put undue stress on people who love you because you will not try to get better. 

That being said, if your friend agrees, help them through the process. Going to an appointment alone (especially the first one) can be scary and a lonely feeling. Someone times, all it takes is a text to say that you hope it went well, or a coffee after to make a massive difference to someone who probably feels quite isolated already. 

If someone you know is a danger to themselves or others, forget what they will think of you and whether they will be angry at you and call an ambulance/ the police. When people are really unwell rationality goes out the window. The guards/parmedics can do wellness checks and will evaluate whether the person needs to be in hospital. If you are worried about someone it is for a reason. Likewise, if someone is not in immediate danger but is acting recklessly and could endanger their own life, call their parents, even if they hate you for this. If you don't feel comfortable talking on the phone (especially if you don't know them), message a brother/sister or a friend from home who could talk to them. 

Listen to them, but don't become a person to vent too. Its easy to become wrapped up in your own problems and not see the light at the end of the tunnel. Talking to people about how you feel when you are really unwell can be validating in a bad way- in your heart you don't believe you are sick and need the validation of hearing someone say that you are to feel slightly better about yourself. This is fine when it is in small doses, but ultimately it isn't improving anything and can make it harder to get better because being ill can become part of your identity when you feel like you don't have one. If someone seems to be doing this, it isn't good for you our the person. With any illness it is good to be able to talk about it, but there is no way you can feel better if it is all you talk about. If a friend is doing this (especially if they are not willing to speak to a professional) nicely explain that its isn't good for your mental health to be under so much stress taking care of them and worrying about them and you're sorry but you have to take care of yourself. 

Nobody is getting out of bed to fundraise for people suffering from psychosis

I have been seeing pictures of the darkness into light walk which was organised by pieata house, and while it makes me happy to think of all these people raising money for a charity that is helping people experiencing suicidal thoughts and self harm, it isn't enough. It allows for an awareness of suicide that doesn't include serious illnesses that devestate the sufferer such as bipolar disorder, anorexia and psychosis. Illnesses that are frightening and misunderstood by most people. 

I went to Pieta House in 2012, and it didn't help me at all. I was very very very unwell. The sessions were geared towards helping people who were dealing with suicidal thoughts and self harm because of a personal crisis, not someone who was suffering from a psychiatric illness. It's great that there is a service for people form whom this sort of help is perfect, and I am in no way trying to bash it, or belittle it. For most people, it is perfect. But I couldn't get the help I needed from this service because it is not geared towards long term support. It is for talking people through difficulties. 

People who experience the sort of difficulties I experienced, people who are extremely vunrable need the help of doctors and psychiatrists, along with a multi disciplinary team that can work with them long term (pieta house only provided 12 sessions) to manage their illness. Chronic depression, bipolar disorder and psychosis (which is diagnosed as schizophrenia after a certain numbers of episodes) seriously reduce the quality of life of the sufferer. They are stigmatised, and difficult to treat, and if are left untreated for the years most people have to wait, make chances of recovery very slim. Suffered often use alcohol and drugs as coping mechanisms to self medicate, which means that when they do end up in hospital they often find it hard to access the right treatment, or are limited by insurance, which only covers (in most cases) 90 days of inpatient treatment. This means that patients are discharged from treatment when they are doing better, but don't yet have the skills to manage their illness in the community, which means when they come out of the community they often relapse into negative coping mechanisms. A vicious circle. 

A friend I know with psychosis (who hasn't received any real, lasting help from an overcrowded health system that is unable to cope and has been forced to come off her meds completely recently due to a mix up with her doctor and GP) has had psychotic episodes where she believes that the devil is controlling her brain and forcing her to do things (such as serious self harm). She has engaged in behaviour in public (such as shouting, climbing trees etc) that she is completely mortified of while lucid but when she is psychotic seem perfectly normal in the reality she is experiencing. Her psychotic episodes often make her think people are trying to kill her, and it is traumatising and terrifying for both her and her family, who end up being her main carers until she is unwell enough to be admitted to hospital in an never ending cycle. 

Even though we both suffer from radically different illnesses, and mine is nowhere near as severe, we both have been let down by the healthcare system and our parents both pay for private health insurance. I can't imagine the path my life would have taken if my family could not afford this, and instead I was forced to wait months for substandard public health care. 

Once again, I think its incredible that people put so much effort into fundraising for Pieta House. If got up at a god awful hour to raise awareness, thank you because you are giving me the confidence to feel like its ok to be open about mental heath. Lets not let this success allow the government (specifically looking at you, Leo) take any more money away from our already pitiful mental health service in this country. And lets not forget about the people who haven't benefited from this increased openness about mental health problems. 

The Bedsit Chronicles: Part Two- Neighbour Wars

The novelty of living in one room really wears thin when exams approach. The horror of sleeping in the same room that you have spent the last two days battling through Kant and then accidentally burning pasta, forgetting to do dishes and having to brush your teeth in the same sink is incomparable. I would rather get up at 7 in the morning to be the first person in the library instead. 

So I have started a new chapter in my life that involves setting alarms on my phone for before 10, making green juice, and going to the gym. The library security guards wish me good morning! I am a new person. A person who is reading war and peace before bed mostly every night and makes packed lunches, mostly. 

Before I get into this, I want to stress that if you have never lived in an apartment with thin walls, you probably won't understand how it is possible to know your neighbours so intimately that you have a clear image in your head of what they look like despite never having laid eyes on them. You know their deepest, darkest secrets, because you have overheard them. It's a special, weird relationship that is impossible to imagine until you enter into it. 

The first indication I had of the thickness of the walls was when what sounded like two parents fighting with their son about his fondness for smoking marijhuanna. It was so amusing to hear someones teen angst erupt in a situation that I had no emotional involvement in whatever I actively enjoyed the shouting. It ended pretty quickly, I fell asleep, and weeks went in perfect science, apart from the occasional rumble of a deep male voice and the sound of a TV on quiet. I felt pretty lucky, to be honest. 

Exam season began to approach, and I started going to bed the earliest I have gone in 3 years and waking up the earliest in order to get a seat in the library. Its a routine that has brought me surprising calm. I enjoy it. The third night of this new me, I cracked and didn't go to bed until half one in order to watch Game of Thrones. As I was drifting off into  sleep, the house was blissfully quiet. I was trying to empty my mind of thought in order to drift off into blissful sleep when suddenly, a TV started blaring, I live in an attached house, so it was in the next room (and next house). Whatever the person was watching, it was dramatic. My empty mind filled with the noise of frantic violins, and a couple having a violent argument. 

I laid in bed, the knowledge that my alarm was going to go off in 7 hours filling me with panic and anger. I got close to knocking on the wall several times. I thought about the Buddha, and how he says all suffering is alleviated by abandonment of the self. I tried to abandon myself, and not care about the neighbours for what felt like thirty minutes before my hate fire  was burning so brightly it was impossible to sleep. I deeply regretted not taking my sleeping tablets, and got out of bed to take one, despite the fact that they make me drowsy after 10 (it was two in the morning. 

I climbed back into bed, and the singing started. I am sure the Buddha himself would not have been able to abandon his ego if he had to listen to two men (in my head they were wearing check shirts, had receding hairlines and were wearing jeans with brown loafers) singing wagon wheel over the blaring noise of the TV drama. I knocked on the wall, the univeral symbol of neighbourly displeasure, and nothing. They seemed to be working their way through Nathan Carter's (described by my mother as "a man who should be silenced') entire discography. I banged a shoe, and still nothing. I thought wagon wheel was the song I most despised on this planet, but I had yet to hear Back to Tourmakedy. This inspired me to throw War an Peace (which conveniently was located beside my bed) at the wall. 

They moved on to Tequila Makes her Clothes Fall Off. I realised the music was so loud they couldn't hear me. I had thrown what some considered Tolstoy's finest literary work, one of the longest novels ever written with great force at the partition wall which had proven itself to be very thin and they still could not hear it over the volume of their Nathan Cater sing along.

I had nearly reached a level of rage that would have overcome my hate for confrontation and was considering going next door to ring their doorbell in breaks between songs and then let all of my pent up anger out, when I remembered that I had a secret weapon I could utilise. Two could play at the annoying music game, especially when one of those people(me) had an unusual like for bagpipe music. 

There is an incredible man on youtube called MarinesandPiper, a man I had unleashed against neighbours many times with great success. A man who covered pop songs on the bagpipes. I think he is a hero, and should be sainted, but most people despise Lady Gaga's poker face on bagpipes for some strange reason. 

Pavlov's dog new what was up. I decided that the only cure for this awful, awful, two in the morning sing song was Rebecca Blacks Friday, covered on bagpipes. I turned it up loud enough to drown out the music, pressed the repeat button, and drifted off into sleep confident in the fact that when they eventually did stop singing, they would spend the rest of the night listening to the worlds most irritating song played on what some consider the worlds most irritating instrument. 

I woke up the next morning to the shrill noise of terribly recorded bagpipes. I felt like Leonardo de Caprio emerging from the frozen body of the bloody horse in the Revenant. My sleep had not be the most refreshing, but my desire for revenge made it sweet. 

i wish this was the end of this story, but it isn't. The same thing happened for the next three night. Something had changed though. The singing was coming to a stop sooner and sooner after I began the bagpipe music. 

But on the fourth night, something magical happened. 

The voices started up around half one, and I clearly heard a male voice shout "I have been enjoying a drink for the last forty years, fuck off". Nathan Carter started up. I hit play on the bagpiper cover of Taylor Swifts Shake it Off. 

Nathan Carter stopped a verse in. A broken man shouted "Those fucking bagpipes!", and silence. No more Nathan Carter. I turned off Marinesandpiper, liking the Taylor Swift cover and sending out thanks to the universe for its inception. It was over; I had won. Nathan had been defeated.

Explaining privilege to the privileged and why not being a feminist is sexist

Emmeline Pankhurst being arrested after demonstrating outside Buckingham Palace for the right to vote. 

When I walk into the library and all the desks are taken, and people have saved some with stacks of papers or books on them, I feel angry. Some people leave for an hour when the official rule is 15 minutes. I am stuck at the trinity version of a children's table at a party, and a pile of books is taking up a desk I could be studying at, instead of wasting my time trying to squeeze my longer than average legs under a smaller than average desk. 

When I am sitting at a desk however, I don't really care about the piles of books. I don't care that there are people at the childrens table and books at the grown up table, to continue the party metaphor. Personally I would not leave for longer than 15 minutes unless it was an emergency, but I am not motivated to care enough about the people that do, because I already have my desk. 

This is how it feels to be privileged. White privilege, male privilege, class privilage,sexual orientation privilege, library privilege. The last one is not a very important privilege, nobody is dying, there are not huge injustices taking place. It is easy to not care about racism when you are white, because you are already sitting at your metaphorical desk in the library. It is easy not to care about feminism when you identify as male, because it doesn't matter that the desks at the edge are smaller and more uncomfortable. Your desk is comfortable. You do not feel the discomfort, so you do not really care. 

You don't really know what it's like to be on the other side until you are on the other side. It's easy to say All Lives Matter instead of Black Lives Matter, because it makes you feel better. All lives do matter, but black lives are more likely to be in danger. When you say All Lives Matter, you are metaphorically sitting in the comfortable seat in the library, but you are not allowing yourself to feel discomfort about the fact there has been a laptop charger taking up a desk for three hours while some people are sitting on the floor. 

I am proud to be a feminist, because feminism means equality for all, but recognises that the ones in need of increased equality are not men. I am a feminist because I have been lucky enough to be surrounded by men and women in my life who raised me to blossom as the person I am, not to shrink because I am a girl. Who told me that I was worth exactly the same as the boys in my class, that I had the right to raise my hand and ask as many questions. That I had a voice that I didn't have to apologise for. 

I am proud to be a feminist because I want to stand behind every single person who has experienced sexual harassment, assault or rape. Feminism taught me to say to the man who grabs me outside a night club that if he doesn't let go, I will punch him in the face. Like a man. Feminism taught me that I should never apologise for having good ideas, or let others take credit for them. 

Feminism taught me that I was worth more than the man who tried to stick his hand up my skirt when I was fifteen, then shouted at me because I wouldn't let him. That it is my body and my choice. That gender doesn't matter, I can do whatever I want. That I can be whoever I want. whatever that may look like. 

By being a feminist, I do not hate men. I don't think that men should be treated better than women. All I want is equality. I am 20 and I am already tired from all the fighting I have had to do to be heard over the stigma that seems to be engrained to so many people's brains. 

I am with Masie Williams on this one. We should just start calling people who are not feminist sexist, whatever their gender might be. Because not recognising that there is a gender imbalance, that women are treated differently to men, that is sexism. If you don't believe in feminism, you believe in equality, you are sitting in your comfortable seat in the library and you are pretending not to notice that while you are on Facebook for three hours someone is trying to write an essay kneeling on the floor. 

Feminism isn't just for women. It is about dismantling toxic masculinity that ensure men who are raped do not speak out about it. So men do not get attacked in nightclubs and schools and by other men and women because it is not ok to assault someone in any circumstances. So male victims of domestic violence get support, Women who commit crimes against men get punished equally, so men who do not fit the masculine norm are supported. So being like a woman is no longer a slur. It's something to be proud of. 

Confessions of a serial procrastinator

I know everyone procrastinates, but I honestly have a problem with it that would probably mandate rehab if it involved alcohol. I have done things in an effort to procrastinate that actually go so far as to not be procrastination any more. This post is also procrastination, BUT for people who are less endowed in the subtle art that is guilt free timewasting, I thought I would give a helping (and probably self destructive) hand. 

The first key tip that I have to avoid doing the things you should be doing is internet access, although it is not always necessary. The second is an open, curious mind that is willing to do anything to avoid the productive task in hand. The third is creativity. Do not limit yourself to run of the mill activities, like binge watching netflix or tidying your room. That is amateur level, my friends. In order to truly procrastinate you should not just be avoiding doing the thing you are procrastinating about, you should be fully committing yourself to another activity to the point of being productive. And yes, me writing this post is procrastination. And I promise you, I have done all these things in the last week (it was reading week after all) 

1. I have begun learning german. With an app. Apparently I am 3% fluent, and I know the words for water (wasser), bread (brot) woman (frau) and boy (junge) as well as a handful more. This is an especially satisfying technique because I have no plans to go to germany in the near future, have never studied it and can at this point in my life see no practical application for it, apart from shouting it down the phone at my boyfriend, and in person to my dog. 
2. Googling answers to any question I can think of, for example how to sew on a button, how to get balsamic vinegar out of clothes, and my personal favourite, the origin of words. The key for this is to have no plans to use any of this knowledge, but for it to be justifiable 'just in case'. How to withstand torture, how to pick a lock, how to organise my non existent office for increase productivity, medieval law, Mary Boylyns reputation in France while she was at court. I am learning, just not the things I am supposed to know. I feel good, but not stressed. Perfect procrastination material. 
3. Vice. If you are not familiar with vice, you probably have never been on the internet and I judge you. Is it slightly sensational? yes. Gritty? yes. Do I need to be reading 500 articles on drug dealers and sex workers? No, because I am meant to be writing an essay on Descartes and he as far as I know was neither. I feel good because I feel like I am learning something, but I don't have the stress of learning a lot about it, and also don't need to know anything about it so its a match made in heaven.
4. Finding new apps to increase productivity is a brilliant way to waste it. I can spend hours organising my life when I should be doing something else, and no time when I should actually be organising my life, as I am probably reading Vice in bed. Downloading and trying out 8 PDF readers for iPad is a magnificent way to not feel guilty about the fact I have not read any of the PDFs I am supposed to be reading. Same with making 8 different to do lists on completely different apps and making lifestyle changes such as starting headspace downloading 1 or 20 fitness apps. 
5. In the library, and catch yourself on Facebook? Amateur level. Start researching a completely different topic to the one you are supposed to be, as obscure as you can find it. Really use this essay writing/researching time you have among thousands of books to explore as many diverse topics you can. Pile them around you. Read less than a chapter of each. Maybe even take notes. Find your interest of the moment, and then find another one. Ensure you will be able to talk vaguely and uneducatedly about it and move on. If you are not in a library, read the wrong chapters of your text book. They will be 500 times more intriguing and 500 times less applicable. If you are really committed, go back to the start of your course and take notes, in a new style, using multiple coloured pens. Make sure never to complete them. 
6. Get impassioned about a cause and plan to uptake a fight for it. It doesn't have to be charitable  it could be as simple as getting the group together for a night out in your home town. Organise as many events as you can, with as many people as you can. These events may or not take place, but they will be complex and involve logistical planning that should last until your study time is over and you feel justified in 'taking a study break'.
7. Spend hours signing up for job alerts from companies you never really plan to work for. Bonus time gets used up telling your mum about how many jobs you have applied for, leaving out the part about how they were all jobs for experienced visual merchants in Birmingham. 
8. Have an incredible idea for a business, talk about it in great detail to your dad/ boyfriend/ think about it in my head. Plan it all out. Never ever act on these plans or feel passionately about them again. This also works equally as well for hobbies. 
9. Think of all the songs you vaguely know, obsess over one melody and attempt to find the name of it based on one possibly correct line/ melody. If you manage to find it, learn all the words/ how to play it on piano, even though you don't know how to play piano anyway. Bonus points for calling family and friends and singing it to them over the phone. entrap as many innocents as you can in the fruitless search. If you can't find it spend 5 hours watching how to play the piano tutorials on youtube anyway, and a ream of paper printing out sheet music. 
10. Decide on a complex lifestyle/ diet change and spend a minimum of 3 hours researching it and finding recipes. Then make a shopping list, which sometimes get brought to the shop, but more often gets abandoned like the quinoa that has been sitting in my press since I started college. It is the thought that counts when it comes to this after all. 

So there you have it, 10 fab ways to procrastinate guilt free! Please comment any things you specifically do/ websites or anything because I am in a bit of a rut procrastination wise and might actually have to start working soon. 

A limited list of books that changed my life (VERY LIMITED) // World book day

As the sort of person who reads everything that is in my house, including junk mail and cereal boxes, books are very important to me. Once, when I was 7, my mum walked into my kitchen, which was filled with black smoke. I was sitting in the middle of all of it, reading harry potter. I had failed to notice the pan fire. 

For world book day I cannot resist compiling a list of 10 books that changed my life, leaving out obvious ones like harry potter and perks of being a wildflower and game of thrones. That is another list. Also I feel bad for leaving books out so this is a limited list. I will keep it to 10. And I just realised that I can't use numbers because I don't want to put them in order of preference because I cannot decide. 

• The Cement Garden, by Ian Mcewan. This was his first book, and it's fucked up, and crazy, and really fucked up. I needed a half a day to recover after this, but it has stayed with me for years. 
• The Mouse and his Child by by Russel Hoban. This is a children's book but it made me cry (like far too recently). Its a philosophical master piece in the way only a children's book can be, because children are far less easy to fool than adults when it comes to books. 
• The Girl on The Train by Paula Hawkins. I think it is going to be a film soon, so read it before the spoilers come, because it was the first book that kept me up all night reading until I finished it in a long time. 
• Asking for It by Louise O'Neil- I feel like everyone is talking about how great it is but nobody is actually reading it, which they should. Trigger warning for anyone feeling fragile. Also kept me up all night. The thing about this book is it is heartbreakingly real. Most Irish people probably know a girl who's story ended up similarly, even if they don't know, because she has never actually been able to tell her story. 
• The Colour Purple by Alice Walker. My fourth class teacher used to give punishment essays with this title, and I really think he should have read the book first because it is a) very harrowing and b) very graphic.
• Transpotting by Irvine Welsh. This book is so good it is the only book I have ever had stolen off me. Testimony to it that I bought it again straight away. I re read it once a year and it is always just as good. Another book everyone should read, especially if you haven't seen the film. 
• A Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. One of my favourite authors, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Darker then my other Wilde favourites, The Importance of Being Ernest being probably my most. Still supremely relevant in a world where  
• The Bone Clocks by David Mitchell. If you have any interest in philosophy this is an incredible book. Its kind of a tome and doubles as a very good doorstop but I have written down quotes from it which means that it is special.This book was worth the back pain. Also if you don't like philosophy, it is incredible story. 
• The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. I found this book in a charity shop and honestly I feel weird thinking about how easily I would have not discovered it. I love fantasy, it is probably my favourite genre, and this book is an unsung hero in the fantasy world. There is a second book in the series, and a third coming out this year which I am eagerly awaiting. Really really fucking good. This book got me through a really difficult summer... famous.  
• Wolf Brother by Michelle Paver. The Chronicles of Ancient Darkness is a children's series, but after I read them (and I re read them about once every two years), it's kind of hard to sleep for a while after. I haven't met anyone else who has read this series but it changed me as a person, although I don't know why. 

There are so many others I want to add, but I can't or else I will be writing this for the next year. Books are such personal things, and these books have made a huge impact on me. I didn't want this to come off like a book review, because its not, its more like a travel guide. The other thing I wanted to say is even though you might be an adult, you are never too old to read children books. Children's books don't get away with being terrible by using adult topics. Children demand a higher level of intellect in books than many adults do. Also, never ever read PS. I love you. I cried after reading it (this isn't even a joke or an exaggeration) because I felt sad about the time I had wasted reading it. It left me with a sensation similar to what I can only describe as being car sick and claustrophobic at the same time. I have learned to feel the warning signs of this and abandoned fifty shades of grey after a chapter even though it was a free ebook preview and I was in a hairdresser. 

Don't waste time reading terrible books, I guess is the moral of the story. Terrible television is a different story altogether.