Greetings Friends! In honor of all things good books and my friend +Kristen Jackson and her last post over at Corner of Central Florida, I have decided to dedicate a blog specifically to reading. Thank you +Kristen Jackson for the inspiration and know that the things I read are absolutely nothing like the things you read.
I feel as though an introduction to my reading style is in order. I was read to copiously as a child. Over and over again I was told stories and read books. My parents were hoping to instill a love a reading in me...it didn't work until much later in life. I remember reading Beverly Cleary books during my childhood years but that's about it. Fast forward a few years to college. I was a theatre major and reading plays, often horrible and frequently long and boring though some were gems indeed. I read so much that I just got tired of it. The book containing all the plays was so heavy and the paper so thin that when I thought I was making a dent I was deceived. That made me bitter. Very bitter.
My next reading sojourn took place while I was working for a ministry. I read all the approved Jesus books and found that I always had a pencil in hand and couldn't enjoy what I was reading for all the note taking. I put those down, except for Brennan Manning's stuff. He's great. I recommend him. And decided that I was going to pick up where my parents left off and read the childhood books that should have already been in my repertoire. I started with The Cronicles of Narnia. Amazing! A must read folks. What was so incredible to me was all the double meaning contained within. On one level it is a fantasy novel for children but on a completely different plane it is a series full of light for adults. I started with book one and my reading obsession began. To this day, I cannot go to sleep unless I have read at least one page of a book. Happened last night. I was so tired but I read one page of my current goody and then escaped to sleepy town.
So there you have it in brief. My love affair with books began when I was 22 years old. I started with children's fiction and never left. I've often wondered what makes middle grade and young adult (not the stupid lovey "i need a boyfriend" junk) so appealing to me. After several years I realized it is because I didn't have much of a childhood. Yes, I was a kid. Yes, I made mudpies and swam in lakes. But, I spent most of my kid years afraid of everything. I missed the whole unadulterated unashamed thing. I was scared and felt immense guilt and convinced myself I was dying. I think the reason I am drawn to books for the young folk is because they give me some of that time back.
Here's what I'm reading now (for the second time): Magyk by Angie Sage. More to come on this delightful series of magyk and mystery.
