Most people that I've come across would agree that enticing children to read and love books is one of the best things that a parent or teacher could do. I've always agreed wholeheartedly with this and would never change my mind. However, just for the fun of it, I was trying to make it into a debate topic for the kids. At first I decided, "Reading books is good for people's mental and emotional health" is one statement that could not possibly have a negative side. After all, who could possibly argue that reading is bad for us, (apart from considering the actual content of the books in question). I didn't think anyone possibly could, so I kept trying to think of some, and to my own surprise, came up with a few.

OK, here goes. This is what I'd say if I was going to debate that reading books is destructive for my mental and emotional health. Reading has brought out gluttony and prejudice in me.

I'm not a glutton with food. I don't binge-eat but I do binge-read sometimes and that might be just as bad on the mind as the other is on the stomach. Just recently, I had a few compelling works of fiction that I kept turning the pages of until it was way past midnight and my eyelids already felt like sandpaper, just because I simply had to find out what was going to happen. It's always the same. I finally put them down and couldn't get to sleep because my mind was still whirling with the stories. And then in the morning, I was a wreck with a head that felt packed with cotton wool. Anyone else familiar with that fuzzy, depressed, achy-eyed, hard-to-think feeling?  Every time I vow never to binge-read again, but a super page-turner always puts me to the test. And then the books are over so fast, I don't get value for money. I have to show more willpower! I always say that.

Equally bad, I always hoped never to be accused of any sort of discrimination against anyone. I have to say, writing, as well as reading, brought this one out in me. I was flabbergasted that when we spoke about my own first couple of books to friends and acquaintances, many people said, "I don't read!" When I say many, I mean it really was many. Comments such as, "I only read commentaries in school and bluffed my way through" or "I prefer to be a do-er than a reader" or "Books never caught my interest" were rife. I hate to admit it, but this sort of comment coloured my perceptions against the people who made them. I even admitted to my husband, Andrew, "I don't understand how anyone with any sense whatsoever could go through life without reading books. Their minds must be really boring."

He shrugged and said, "I'm sure they watch soapies and sit coms on TV."

He was the one who helped me on my steps to recovery from this sort of prejudice. Andrew pointed out several people, including my own brother, a notorious non-reader who won't even read books that his own sister wrote.

"David is interested in greyhound racing," he pointed out, "but he doesn't get it in for you because you're not interested in greyhound racing. So you shouldn't hold it against him that he doesn't like reading." OK, I thought it was a fair enough comment and took it on board. More people than I ever expected hate reading, but it's their choice and I try to think none the less of them.

So, there you go. Absolutely anything is debatable and I could probably think of even more if I put myself to the test. Having completed this tongue-in-cheek exercise, I have to say that in spite of the binge-reading and prejudice, nothing could ever induce me to stop reading books or encourage my children not to. (But as I'll never be interested in greyhound racing, I've long since given up trying to interest my brother and other consumate book-avoiders into reading).