Today on my horribly maintained blog which I feel bad about every time I think about it you get to hear about why I personally love to read. I got this idea from another book blog, because surprise surprise I read more than I write. The blog is Short Girl Writes and she wrote a post about why she loves to read and thus inspired me to share my own story of where my love of reading comes from.
Books have surrounded me my entire life. For as long as I can remember there's been a bookshelf in my room and books piled on my parent's night stands. I some of my earliest memories are of being read to by my parents, my grandparents, aunts, uncles, basically anyone I could convince. They weren't chapter books or anything fancy, I remember the Berenstain Bears and Doctor Seuss more than anything else. Harry Potter which if you're new here plays a rather large role in my life came later but it was always there and the movies were there before that. My family loves to tell the story of a little toddling me carrying around a magazine because I wanted to read like my mom did all the time. I remember always wanting to share in this magic that they so often disappeared into and occasionally shared with me.
When I started kindergarten at the tender age of five, I was a teacher's pet from day one and came home distraught telling my grandmother "I can't even read yet!" My grandmother being my grandmother set out to remedy that problem that moment. I can assure you that Dick and Jane has never had a more thorough use, unless it was my brother a few years later. We read that book over and over again and she made flash cards of all the words in that book and any words I didn't know in the books that were sent home. By Christmas I had mastered little words and was reading fairly well. By the next school year I had surpassed little books like The Three Billy Goats and moved onto chapter books like Magic Tree House and Junie B. Jones.
By second grade I had moved onto books like Anne of Green Gables and Little House on the Prairie. One of my favorite memories of that time is when I had to read a story for class. I read it in a few minutes and told my dad I was done. He naturally didn't believe me because what seven year old can read an entire story in five minutes. So he made me read it again with him watching and tell him what it was all about. I did and blew his mind. That Christmas I got a nook and Nancy Drew books and my own set of digital Anne of Green Gables books. That Easter I became the first grandchild to go on vacation with my grandparents was presented with The Little House in the Big Woods as a present from my parent on the way home.
Skip a couple of years with very similar reading habits complete with all the Nancy Drew books, Anne once or twice, and all the Little House books. Fourth grade comes around and I finally got around to reading Harry for the first time. And thus I completed my foray into fantasy and finish becoming the bookworm I am.
I completely blame my love for reading on my family. They've always surrounded me with books and a deep love for reading. It's a love I hope to pass on to my children someday (that day's a long way off but someday). I've already tried with varying levels of success to pass on this love to my younger cousins because I'm the super nerd over here. I can only hope that y'all will see this and go forth and share your love for reading with the world. I however leave you with this question: What inspired your love for reading? Is there one person in particular who did it?
Happy reading,
Merlin:)
