One Day

I just finished One Day By David Nicholls. It was one of those delightful books that I was disappointed to finish, and slightly disappointed by a sudden event at the end. I’m struggling to find another book that I will enjoy as much.

It followed two friends over 20 years on the same day each year, a clever and challenging undertaking for a writer but it works surprisingly well.

I related to the character Emma in her disappointment for how her early 20s passed into less than she had hoped. A disappointment, rather with unfulfilled dreams, unrequited love and lack of direction. I look back on my early 20s with a pang that I did not achieve more success as a writer. I look at authors with such awe when I should focus that the only difference between me and them is discipline, and maybe some connections and education. There’s slight embarrassment that I do not have more to show for my attempts at writing.

Just as there is slight embarrassment that I have not read certain classical novels or ever embraced Shakespeare. I know regrets do not have a place in a productive life.

Emma found her focus when she returned to school and became a teacher, sharing her passion with kids. So, at 32 I have my life ahead of me and still time to do more. Which means I should probably return to that novel that I’m ignoring.

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