2016 in 100 Books—because the real world's been an absolute shitshow

2016 in 100 Books—because the real world's been an absolute shitshow

Finishing things. It’s difficult, isn’t it?

Starting is always easy. Ideas come to you in the bath, in bed, in middle of a conversation with someone you should be listening to. You scrabble for a notepad, and BOOM. A start.

But the finish. The finish is ethereal. Untouchable. Seen only through a forest of struggle and stamina.

I am famously quite rubbish at finishing things. Sometimes I can’t even finish a sentence without starting the next one. My head runs off before my mouth and can catch up, and the same is true of pretty much everything.

Finishing things, then, is quite the effort for me.

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2015 in 100 Books - OR how I finally committed to something and finished it for once

2015 in 100 Books - OR how I finally committed to something and finished it for once

I have never been very good at finishing things. I’m a serial project starter and tend to get very enthusiastic about new things; less so the continual slog of getting to the end of anything at all (apart from any one of my ill-planned cooking projects, but that’s because they all end in eating). At the start of 2015, I decided that this inability to complete things was getting out of hand and standing in the way of my personal, social and career development (it was). So I set myself a reading goal.

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