My Daily Trip to the Library

I have never been as comfortable with people made of flesh and bone than I have been with those made of words. Whatever information I lose in the contours of the human face, I have no trouble locating in the unchanging, permanent text of a book. There is something about literature that felt safe to me; the worlds created within far more welcoming to little girls with problems fitting in than the one outside the pages. For this reason, fiction, from Harry Potter to The Book Thief, has remained my greatest passion ever since I learned to read.

A book is like a door, without stepping through the door, you will never know what's on the other side. It is a mystery that can only be unveiled if you open it and look through it. Dana Gioia wants us to take that mystery and open it up, as many young adults have lost interest in the action of reading itself.

There I was. An undersized 3rd grader, meeting with the school librarian, who was probing at my ability to read and comprehend the book I chose for that week. It was during this particular week in which I refused to join the class in their sticky hand raid, but rather, shift through my new library at home. It was the weekend prior in which my grandmother purchased a white box from a garage sale.

Ones passion will always be stopped by a tyrant or hardship, but one has to put in the best effort to overcome as well as gain support. Eudora’s explanations of her mother, librarian, and herself emanates her enjoyment along with attachment to reading. Eudora correlates her librarian to a monster who brings

Damp orange leaves stuck to my shoes as I trudged my way toward the back entrance of the school. A chilly wind whooshed past me, spraying my face with vapor. It felt good, almost numbing. Shoving my hands into my jean pockets, I then began to think of the red book. A tingle of warmth spread throughout my body as I recalled the way my fingers had glided over the embossed gold design on the cover. The gold always seemed to glitter when it touched the light; it was worthy of admiration, praise. As if suddenly slapped across the face, I came to my senses. Daydreaming about a book, especially one that was that was supposedly inherently evil, was not normal behavior. That was such a random thought, think about something else Jared, I scolded myself.

Books are full of ideas and themes that convey meaningful lessons for society: blinding ambition leading a man to destruction, the journey of a woman overcoming guilt and shame, the defiling of nature to advance scientific knowledge. The concepts relayed from books shape the thoughts and actions of people as they grow up and become increasingly enlightened. The books described above include The Great Gatsby, The Scarlet Letter, and Frankenstein, a few of the books that I have read. Each one has led me to explore the extent of the main characters’ attributes in my own life, and derive purposeful conclusions on the implications thereof. These titles are just three that I have recently read.

By the time I was nine years old, I’d advanced from reading Nancy Drew novels (unbeknownst to my mother) to devouring the seedy and sexually charged novels that came out of the minds of authors Harold Robbins and Jackie Collins.

I embraced what it means to be a real reader at a young age. I didn’t merely read books, I LIVED books. My second grade teacher insisted her students write about their favorite books and why we chose that specific book. Easy peasy lemon squeezy Mrs. Laforte! Gazing down at the paper on my beloved cubby desk, the choice was clear: Dinosaurs Days by Joyce Milton. “I love this book because I love dinosaurs. I even have dinosaur toys!” (From an adorable little boy a.k.a. Bradley). It was around this time when I delved into solely fiction novels such as Narnia, which undoubtingly influenced how I viewed the world and its inhabitants. Nearly everyone daydreams when there is a certain lack of stimulation, but I’d bet I spent

It may be cliché, but books have always held a spot close to my heart. When I was three I had a book called Bitsy Witch that went wherever I did. When I was seven, my mom read a chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone every night. In middle school, I worked my way through the entire children’s section at my local library. In high school, I took every English class offered, and when I entered college I to compromise with my family that I would also pursue a pre-professional program. My time outside of class was spent on my pre-professional degree until, my senior year in college. I took two classes that focused on children’s and young adult texts. Before those classes, I hadn’t realized that specializing in Children’s literature was

I spend my free time battling giant windmills with Don Quixote, rolling down hills in a tire with Scout, and exploring the depths of the sea with Captain Nemo. I have spent my entire life surrounded by literature. In my younger and more vulnerable years, my parents would read to me every single night before bed. My impressionable young mind absorbed stories about Meg Murry, Mary Poppins, and Harry Potter. Thus began my life-long affair with books. I was an odd child. I opted out of playing kickball or tag with my classmates and instead sat under a big oak tree reading. I entertained myself for hours as I walked the

The key to finding one’s destiny is determined on how much time and effort you’re willing to sacrifice. In Robin Sloan’s Mr.Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, the author uses inquisitiveness to convey that destiny and self-discovery is a result of one’s curiosity. Sloan accomplishes this with the utilization of encrypted books, ordinary characters, and secret-societies.

One day after school, one of my friends asked if I was free and wanted to hang out. I was and I did, but noted with despair that my parents had never allowed me to be out without supervision. However, I thought it was time to stand up to authority and give my mom a piece of my mind. I stormed confidently out of the school to the car (where of course she was waiting to pick me up), determination

A few times a week, my brother and I would go to the library to be read stories and to check out books to hold us over until our next visit. I cannot tell you all the books I read or stories I listened to. I more clearly remember the Potions class taught by Professor Dumbledore, of Harry Potter Series fame, than the words I read. But I remember I felt walking through the Library doors. Those days are the reason I have piles of books across my room, and more hiding in storage. Those days are the reason I find escape in page numbers, and for that, I’m forever grateful.

At the age of eight I was reading at a college level. I had no particular interest in any particular subject, yet I was reading books that no grade schooler would normally look at, let alone comprehend. Literary works ranging from alchemy, to zoology could be found piled floor to ceiling in my bedroom. But try though I might, I was still a listless, quite boy with no particular interest in anything. I had yet to find something truly extraordinary locked between their pages. So, for lack of anything better to do, I kept digging. I tore my way through most of the school library and any other work of academia I could get my hands on. However I always found myself losing interest soon after I began.

I have never been someone who could get into a book without at first knowing what I am jumping into. The idea of opening up a book, entering a world, not knowing what to expect, always deterred me. But, fictional reading to me, has always brought to me a sense of curiosity, for it pushes me to discover almost an entire new life through the eyes of another. All throughout my childhood, my parents encouraged me to read as much as possible, where there was never a time where we would not have a book checked out at the library near my house. We would sit within the children’s section of the library and just read. Whether reading Roald Dahl or R.L. Stine, I was pulled into a whole nother world with each book that I read. It pushed me to imagine what I now see as impossible and almost pushed me out of the reality which I was living in at the time. I began my