Autumn is my favourite time of the year, closely followed by winter. You may be able to guess that I love all things cozy. Curled up in winter pyjamas, slippers, sipping a decadent hot chocolate and relishing the marshmallows dissolving on my tongue. Warm, hearty meals, cuddles under a blanket and a lovely sense of solitude as the days shorten. Count me in.

This time of the year is also perfect for reading (although I firmly believe reading is wonderful at all times of the year). However, I also find that as the sun goes to bed earlier each day, and frost paints the windows, it is impossible not to become contemplative. I live in Brisbane, so it’s not as though I’m going to get snowed in (or even see snow), but there is something about this time of year that really makes you think. Not the dreamy thoughts of endless summer days where anything seems possible, if not particularly probable. My mind finds itself leaning towards the bigger questions in life.

While curled up, enjoying the books I am currently devouring, I find myself thinking of the mountain that is my TBR (to be read) list. Anyone who reads knows exactly what a TBR is. It is a strange, mythical creature, always growing and changing. I have never heard of a TBR mountain shrinking. I wonder if such a thing is even possible.

I saw a trailer for an upcoming movie where the whole world is trapped inside their homes. My first thought was “the lucky bastards, I would get so much reading done”. I will admit, if the end of civilisation seems imminent, one of my most pressing tasks will be to help myself to the stock in the library across the road from my house. After all, someone must protect the stories. We don’t want them to become used as kindling.

I am currently reading “The Man in the High Castle” by Philip K. Dick on my kindle and listening to the audio book of “A wizard of Earthsea” by Ursula K. Le Guin. As soon as I finish those, I have “Ivanhoe” by Sir Walter Scott queued on my kindle (I managed to get his entire collection of novels). And am eagerly awaiting my pre-ordered copy of “The Changeling” by Kate Forsyth. Between Sir Walter Scott and Kate’s latest novel set in Scotland, I believe I will be well prepared for my U.K trip in October. I cannot wait for an autumnal Scotland, and reading stories set in these places is to my mind, the best way to prepare for a holiday adventure.

No matter how much I read, and enjoy reading in all formats (yes, I do count listening to audio books as reading – remember, storytelling started as an oral tradition), the mountain of my TBR grows, with new stories being added as I stumble across different authors and get recommendations. I am not picky with my reading and enjoy reading a wide variety, both fiction and non-fiction (although I’ll admit to a preference for fiction – I find more truth in it).

“No time is ever wasted if you have a book along as a companion.”

— Marian Wright Edelman

I always welcome recommendations. It is wonderful when you can pair someone with the perfect book. I have surprised a few people with my book recommendations and believe I have at least a 90% success rate with recommending stories that they will really connect with (assuming they can put down phones and stop looking at a TV for a little bit each day).

Although my TBR list seems like it could rival any of the mountain ranges (Everest, eat your heart out), I know that I will never complete the list. It is an impossible task. We only have a finite amount of time on this planet; there are only so many stories I can make a part of me. Strangely, I am not saddened by this thought. I know that there will remain breath-taking, amazing stories that I will never know. Pages will remain unturned; characters will strangers. Yet, others will have been introduced to some of those characters, walked some of those paths to find glory, or escape hardship. I believe stories become a part of our DNA. They shape us, even if we cannot see it. They teach us important lessons, bring us peace, challenge us, surprise and shock. Looking into someone’s eyes, is like looking through all the stories they’ve ever read or heard. Stories connect us and keep the darkness at bay.

My TBR mountain is no doubt unscalable, but in the end, all that matters, is that for whatever time, each of these stories lived. And so, have I.