I love reading. I remember my dad taught me how to read through comic strips. I was already familiar with Calvin and Hobbes, Rip Kirby, The Amazing Spiderman and Pugad Baboy even before I started pre-school. I wasn’t allowed to play outside, besides I didn’t know any of my neighbors. So I spent most of my days indoors, playing with my stuffed animals and reading whatever I could get my hands on- my brother’s National Geographic magazines and encyclopedia, my sisters’ Sweet Dreams and Sweet Valley books, even my mom’s copy of The Thorn Birds- which suddenly disappeared after they caught me with it.
I would have my own little game, whenever I couldn’t understand the meaning of a word used, I’d consult the dictionary. The more times I needed to consult Mr. Webster, the more pleased I felt. I’m not a nerd, far from it. I can’t stand reading formulas and instructions. I simply liked reading.
As I grew up, I thought everyone loved books as much as I did. I love the smell of new books, fresh from the plastic wrapper. Once I start, I couldn’t stop. And once I’m done, I’d feel bittersweet and hungry for more. This is a part of me that hasn’t changed a bit. Eventually, I found the love of my life- Classics. My second love would be Young Adult, maybe because I never really grew up.
Right now I have unintentionally started this a-book-a-day thing, I finish a book or two in a day. This section is dedicated to a few of the books I’ve read and sometimes they get jumbled in my head that I forget which is which. So I’ll be talking about some books from time to time and how they made me feel. 🙂
“If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.”
― Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood