When is the first time you can remember writing something or reading something, anything? What do you remember about this experience, and why do you think that this experience has stuck with you?
My earliest memories of books and reading begin when I was quite young, and my mother read to me. We began with picture books, as parents and children often do - I was especially fond of
The Bernstein Bears.
As I learned to read, I started finding picture books for myself. I would ransack the church library every Sunday, and whenever we drove into town and went to the public library, I would check out as many books as I could carry. Sometimes, I'd bring plastic bags with me so I could take home even more books. My mother continued reading to my brothers and me throughout our childhoods, moving on to longer and more complicated books such as
The Chronicles of Narnia and the works of Madeleine L'Engle. Eventually, she and I started reading books together, taking turns reading the chapters aloud. I particularly remember reading Edward Bloor's
Tangerine and Ruth White's
Belle Prater's Boy this way.
What did you read and write when you weren't in school? Why? When? Where?
Oh, I read. I read and read and read. In elementary school, I remember reading plenty of novels (one called
Daphne's Book stands out in my memory), but I was mad about a number of different series. In elementary school, I tore through the
Sweet Valley Kids books, graduating to
Sweet Valley Twins when I got a bit older. Around 4th grade, I discovered
Animorphs, and I eagerly waited for each new installment - I usually bought them through the book order forms we received at school. For as long as I can remember, I've enjoyed lists and order, and I very much enjoyed tracking down every part of a particular series.
I would read pretty much any time and anywhere. I had spare books in my backpack everyday that I could produce before class, whenever I was finished with my work, whenever bad weather necessitated indoor recess, and on the very long bus rides home (my family barely lived within the school district, and I would sit on the bus for close to an hour every day). At home, I would read in my bedroom, on the floor of my parents' room (beside the heating vent), and any number of places outside. I would bring books with me any time we had a remotely long car trip.
My reading habits grew less voracious in junior high and high school. I still enjoyed reading a great deal, but I was reading longer books which took more time to get through, and I had more schoolwork do demand my time, as well as band, choir, drama, and speech). Not as many particular books stand out in my memory during this period. I remember reading
Little Women after falling in love with the film, and I very much enjoyed Gregory Maguire's books. While I grew up playing
Lord of the Rings with my brothers, I didn't read the books for myself until high school - as my older brother had read the entire series when he was nine and we were constantly borrowing the old cartoon films from the library, I was well-versed on the story before I began. I also came to the Lemony Snicket books rather late in the game, but I took to them wholeheartedly raced through the series to date as quickly as I could get my hands on them.
Think about memorable experiences with reading. What made these so memorable?
Certain books and authors in my life have grabbed me quite intensely. I remember the first time I read Gregory Maguire's
Wicked. It was shortly after the musical first came out, and I'd obtained the book through inter-library loan. I utterly lost myself in Maguire's version of Oz. I remember that I began reading when I got home from school on a Friday, read solidly until dinner, and then read further until my mother told me I had to go out and socialize with my little brother and his friends, who were playing broom ball that night. As I have less than zero interest in sports in the best of times and I was up to my elbows in wicked witches at this point, I begged for a reprieve, but I was made to join in for an hour-and-a-half of broom ball followed by a movie at someone's house (it was the first
Pirates of the Caribbean movie). It was after one when we finally got home, and I read for another hour before my eyes were too bleary to make out the words. The next day, the only times my family saw me were at meals, and by the time the sun went down, I was finished.
Like I mentioned earlier, I had a similar experience with Lemony Snicket's books. The first book in
A Series of Unfortunate Events isn't terribly long, and I read it in a little over an hour, in one sitting. This became my template for the series - a Lemony Snicket book should be enjoyed in its entirety, uninterrupted. However, each book in the series gets progressively longer, and by the time I reached the 11th book in the series, I was very annoyed to discover that I was expected to put my book down and come to supper.
I also especially remember reading the last book in the series. It was the first time I'd started reading a series while it was in progress and carried it through to the end (I lost interest in
Sweet Valley Twins and
Animorphs, and both Tolkien and Lewis were dead by the time I read their books). I remember how excited I was to read it - I was in college at the time, and I drove to Barnes & Noble before class so I could buy it. I read it in my usual Lemony Snicket style, all at once. I remember how much I appreciated the ending, but also how forlorn I felt when it was over. No more! Nothing left! I didn't know what to do with myself.
The books that get me hooked on a particular writer always stand out in my mind. I can't make a good attempt to pin down my favorite Jane Austen book, but
Northanger Abbey will always have a sentimental place in my heart, because it was the one I read first. I was in college, working in a tutoring center, and I remember reaching for the book whenever I had a free moment. I remember the way I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing and disturbing the other tutors.
With Tom Stoppard, I didn't get fully reeled in with the first place I read (
Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead), though I do love it. It led me to seek out his
Coast of Utopia trilogy, and when my mother found
Arcadia sitting in a closet, I took it, curious to read more by this interesting playwright.
Arcadia is the one that got me excited. I wouldn't necessarily say I like it better than the previous works I'd read, but for whatever reason, something clicked with me, and I realized I needed to read anything I could find by this man.
In all these cases, it's the excitement that I remember, the insatiable need to keep reading. It's a wonderfully spectacular feeling. While it can be quite problematic when the pesky business of living gets in the way, I love getting swept up in a book and letting my self be carried away by a desperate hunger for the words. So satisfying.
