It is a truth universally acknowledged (at least by me) that the only diet worth following consists of vodka, chocolate, and vegetables.
I'm aware that such dietary requirements severely diminish my chances of being listed as anyone's fantasy dinner party guest. Instead, this diet sounds like the kind of nourishment an angry six-year-old would demand of a frazzled parent.
An angry six-year-old with a penchant for hard liquor and the spirit of a 'wellness influencer', at least.
However, this has nothing to do with items you toss in your shopping trolley and everything to do with a theory that shapes the way you look at books, and how you recommend them.
Watch Mia Freedman review a book right here. Post continues after podcast.
I love books with a passion so deep that if I were ever to aim those feelings towards an actual human being, they would instantly recoil from me with fear so overwhelming that the plot of Fatal Attraction would look like a nursery rhyme in comparison.
But the hard truth is, not all books are for all times (or all people).
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