Six years ago, I was eleven years old with my face stuck in a huge book, my family met up with the Bakers. Dr. Baker was recently retired and was working on a novel. He was talking to my mom about how he wanted more reviewers for his book before publishing, and my mother-being so proud of me for reading a five hundred page book-recommended me. Once I finished the book, my mom drove me to meet him at a small café called Bear Moon Bakery. He bought our breakfast and a cup of coffee, I do not remember exactly what I ate, but knowing my sweet tooth, it was probably a cookie. We sat down at a little round table and I plopped his well-worn in book next to us already wanting to talk about it. It had taken me longer than usual to read it, because I was reading the next book in a series. I was eager to talk books with someone who loved writing them as much as I loved reading them. Something that has to be kept in mind, however, I was still eleven years old. I did not know that criticism was good if used right, I had a total of five years in elementary English to back me up, and I was talking to someone who seemed centuries older than I was; in other words, Dr. Baker was doing me a favor by making me feel special and important to his book.
My family was still reeling from a recent divorce, my dad did not seem to want to visit my sister or me, and we had to move; the moving part did not bother me, since I was raised in a military family, but this time we moved and my dad did not
After being dropped off from dance late at night, I was expecting to walk into a silent house where everyone was asleep. Instead, I walked into my living room to find the rest of my family sitting on the couch with the television off, which was strange for my family. It was clear they were waiting for me to get home, so I sat down too. My mom and dad exchanged a look and a sigh then turned back towards my brother and me. They babbled absently for a few minutes, then, my mom quickly spit out the words, as if ripping off a Band-Aid, "We are moving back to Arizona." There was a brief moment of stunned silence before I burst into tears. I could not imagine why my parents would decide to separate me from my best friends six months before we were supposed to
My parents told us that they were getting a divorce. I didnt understand what that meant at the time, but my mom said that I would be living with her in a new house so I was okay with it for a while. after a year or two my mom started to date a really cool guy that liked a lot of the same things as me, so I was happy about that. It turned out that he is now my step-dad as of November 22, 2015. Around the same time my dad started dating a woman that is really girly and stuck-up so I started going over to his house less
As a reader my reaction to the author was really inspiring because even thought he had a hard childhood, he kept his head up and kept doing what he had to do to successes and make his mother happy. Also the way
There have been many marvelous books given to this world by genius authors. I have discovered a new deep appreciation for written works and their generous offers of knowledge into my mind. Think of it. Literature is a way to spark imagination, adventure, and passion into the dull areas of life. It creates emotion in me and in turn, plays off my emotions to give me a message of some kind. Books have the power to inspire change or purely entertain. In my own personal life, I have read a book that has changed me for the better. William Goldman’s Princess Bride has taught me many simple yet important life lessons. I especially love his clever satire and interesting characters that give me better insight for the world I’m preparing to enter. This
On the surface, I had good reasons for staying on the east coast another couple of weeks after I left my job at the United Nations. I had just married, and my husband and I were packing up to move to California. We gave up our flat and stayed with friends while he straightened out some child support issues. We had planned, after leaving New York, to swing up to Vermont for a couple of days to visit friends before making the drive across country. Then there was this: My husband, an African American, had barely ventured outside of New York except for the year he spent in Vietnam. I had my doubts that he would follow me, in the Volkswagen van, pulling a U-Haul trailer, if I had flown back to California without him. He had some trepidation, probably not baseless, about leaving the illusive security of Jamaica, Queens and driving across country. I believe I had asked my parents if they wanted me to fly home, and easily accepted their reassurance before the surgery that they were pretty optimistic about it but would let me know if my return should be expedited. After the surgery, my father seemed to be recovering well, was back at home, and was looking forward to seeing me and meeting John. Their confidence, which in retrospect may have simply been a reluctance to burden me with worry, fed my innate tendency to minimize health problems. Other
My mom had agreed to move and leave her family for my dad but my youngest brother and I did not want to. I begged my dad to not move but he did not listen to me. My mom
During my childhood my mother and father expected me, my brother and two sisters to be respectful, obedient and polite. They set a conservative tone for our house that was not as strict as a boarding school, but there were similarities. Now that is not to say they beat us, or were mean, in fact they loved us very much but the love was shown from a specific distance. We talked, we laughed, but we never talked loudly, and we never laughed too much. I can remember hugging my dad, but it was when I was pretty little. I guess he felt that I was a boy, and as such I had to stand on my own. My only problem was he worked so much I never really learned how to stand on my own as a man. He never taught me how to defend myself. My mom always told me to walk away from a fight, problem is kids don’t view the world as adults, and the kid looking to avoid a fight probably didn’t know how to fight, and that was just too tempting a target to pass up. After we mover to Cerritos it was different, my relationship with my dad changed. He was getting home after work on time, he was around in the evenings and on weekends. I could see he was more relaxed, under less stress than he had been before and it was great! We started doing things together more regularly. We went deep sea fishing 4 or 5 times a year, we went to science fairs, hobby shops and down to the local harbors and checked out sail boats. I was getting to know him, where he came from,
My family first moved to America about three years ago in January of 2014. We came as a family of five: my mom, Nava, my dad, Yoav, my older sister, Maya, Me, and my younger brother, Tomer. My parents were born in Israel, but they relocated to boston about 18 years ago and came back to Israel after my older sister was born. This is their second relocation, but their first with a whole family. Just like their first time, they relocated because of my dad’s job. He now works at Microsoft, and he flew to the U.S so much my parents decided to move. I remember coming home from school to see both my mom and dad looking at me. I realized they had something to tell me, and I was very nervous. My initial reaction was to cry. I didn’t want to move away
Mrs. Song changed the way I view the world, and encouraged the transition from childhood to adulthood within my culture. She was my tenth grade English tutor, and though her main job was to instruct us through literature, she used movies, hands-on experiences, and personal stories to teach us just how relevant the books’ topics were to everyday life. Mrs. Song introduced me to a new way of viewing society, and taught me I can make a change in the world, even with limited resources. Because of her mentoring, I am changed, and I will continue to change. I have not only come to adore multiple varieties of literature, but I also have come to understand the value of communication, perseverance, and redemption.
It was around 6pm when I received the call from my dad saying he needed to see my brother and I at his office within the hour. After I heard the words, “I need to talk to you guys,” I was not in the mood to chit chat. I told him what he wanted
T- In his book review, Simon Winchester utilizes impassioned opinions and deep textual analysis, creating a scholarly tone, in order to illustrate the brilliance and genius of Baker's writing
To this day, I have problems when visiting my dad, as I know him as the sole creator of the divorce. Right away, I wanted nothing to do with my dad. I stopped seeing him, until gradually I worked back to seeing him, then seeing him at my old house, and then finally spending the night at my old house. Now, I feel back at square one. Visiting with him is not enjoyable, it is something I dread, and feels like it wastes my time. After my mom remarried in September, I moved to a new house and finally feel like I live a life of a person with a whole family. And now, my dad is no longer part of this family. While this is not fair to him, life is not fair and his actions brought upon the divorce. His actions cause me to go to counseling for years to talk about my problems. His actions caused my social problems in which I had a hard time making friends because I feel I can not trust anyone. His actions make me fear that I will never have a happy relationship where I get married and have kids and grow old together with my spouse. And his actions show that there was a trace of happiness in our
Growing up in a home with both my parents, I was fortunate to be able to spend a lot of quality time with my father. We used to go out together and play soccer, baseball, and ride bikes. I remember we used to play a lot of old school video games and my mother would get pretty upset at the hours we spent playing and not doing anything productive. In my point of view, our relationship was perfect; our bond was strong like any father and son. I was only four years old when my world was turned upside down. My life changed the day that my mom and my dad separated, I felt alone. The process of a divorce was too much for a child that age to handle; it was a hard time for me. Although I had no father figure for about 12 years because my dad moved
My dad had left my mom, my brother, and me when we were little, but we will still would visit him every weekend, and we would spend time with him like when we were a family. My mom didn’t really like us going to
This is something that I thought he did wonderfully; as the book continues and he grows older, his perception and understanding of the world change along with his writing. So while he is writing