So, I discovered this site, http://www.ritualistic.org/ (I know, I was scared too, but it is nothing like it sounds, I found it entertaining and her writing style is similar to mine). Anyway, the writer is looking for bloggers who reflect on what reading has meant to them. That started me thinking about what reading means to me (and you lucky readers get the benefit of reading all about it).
My cousin was a new teacher when I was young and taught me to read very early. When I was 5, my parents used to have me read the NY Times (as a party trick). Joanna is 5 now and I can see how someone that size reading the NY Times in that little squeaky voice would amuse people. But, to get back to reading…
I have been reading since then. I have always loved it. I have many memories of reading throughout my life. I remember my favorite book when I was young, Harriet the Spy (if you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it, even if you are old like me). I remember different phases I went through, the Little House books, the predecessors to the Goosebump books (do they still have those?) and Danielle Steele.
Reading has always been an escape for me. When my mom was killed, reading is probably the only thing that got me through it. Reading was an escape. I could lose myself in a book and forget about what had happened for 10-15 minute periods (this was a long time when I was falling apart).
I guess what I am saying is reading has always meant a lot to me. Without books, I would be totally lost. That leads me to another thought. One of my favorite book series is being turned into a TV series on HBO. True Blood starts on Sunday. I haven’t seen the TV show, but I highly recommend the books, a series by Charlaine Harris. The first is called Dead Until Dark.