My Life I Hate Reading

As a girl growing up around a group of bikers, boys and two parents who listened to eighties hair bands and metal, you wouldn’t think that I read or was read to frequently before starting school. I pursued in reading quite often, actually. When I finally started school, I had the tendency of keeping to myself and staying quiet. There never have been very many friends in the picture of my life. I learned at a young age that there often are going to be cliques, even when you’re an eight year old in girl scouts. I stood out in more ways than one, but for now I’m only going to elucidate why reading is so salient to me.

When people read teen fiction, I liked to read older, more classical books like “Romeo and Juliet” or “Cyrano de Bergerac.” These types of books have always been my refuge, the place to go to when I feel forlorn, and one of the only activities I feel comfortable in. when I read I picture myself in their position with an exciting, interesting, and adventurous life to distract me from my worries. When they started to get smartphones to take selfies, my priority was to get a polaroid camera. Sometimes I took my camera to school and the kids characterized me like characters in books do. The people I read about had inspired me to show who I truly am and who i wanted to become. Literature can help many people become courageous in life. They give role models, persons to admire that can change the perspective someone has of

She came to me a couple of months ago and said, “Gabrielle you have to read this book.” She said the book was set in Sweden and that it was about a grumpy old man. Not the greatest description on her part because the book, A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman, was so much more than that. That book made me feel every emotion imaginable. It made me laugh, it made me cry, it made me smile, but most importantly it gave me a new perspective on life. It taught me how wonderful kindness is and how it can truly make a difference. That’s why I love literature. There are always new perspectives to be had and new things to learn.

George R. R. Martin once proclaimed, “A reader lives a thousand lives”, which means that I have lived more than my terse eighteen years on this earth. From my parents reading me the classic Goodnight Moon every night, to my three-year-old self loving If You Give a Mouse a Cookie and Chrysanthemum (which I strongly felt was written after me), I had an exemplary start when it came to the world of literature. From this introduction, I continued to immerse myself in books while other kids’ interest in books faltered once the pages were no longer filled with pretty pictures and enormous letters. My love and fascination, however, only grew stronger over time and as my skills advanced, I started to go through books so fast that I needed to buy five at a time in order to keep myself entertained by their stories. I have enjoyed my

It unlocked a deep recess in my mind and heart that I didn’t know existed. But the more I read about the book the more I saw the symmetry and how it all fit together.

As a child, I loved books. I loved the stories and brightly colored pictures. Most of the books I read left me smiling every time I read them. Now, just seeing the cover of a book I had read when I was young brings back fond memories. Even though I struggled with reading a bit growing up, I don’t remember it hindering my appreciation for it. I remember being really excited when it was time for my mom to read to me every night before bed. I enjoyed Dr. Seuss, The Rainbow Fish, The Big Hungry Bear, Tikki Tikki Tembo, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and many more (the list goes on and on). There were also several teachers I had that read to my classes on a daily basis. As I got into third and fourth grade, my teachers would start reading chapter

Second grade was when the passion for reading began to blossom in me. At the age of seven, I was already reading at a fifth grade level. I was so addicted to reading that I would often get in trouble for my eyes being on the book, instead of on the teacher. Growing up, my favorite place was Books-A-Million. Every time mother and I would travel to town, I would always request a new book. In my bedroom, I possessed two shelves packed with books of every genre. I would always have at least one in my backpack, and one on my nightstand. I would never depart from the house without something to read.

I spend the a lot of my time doing extracurriculars, like playing baseball, piano, and skiing. When I do read a book, it entails utter silence or I’ll be lost in foggy thought. My hometown has a main library, along with miniature counterparts in each grade school. When I was younger, I would ride my bike there with my sister and check out books that may have interested me. I looked for books with deeper meaning; themes that I can relate to but delivered in a way that will intrigue me from bookend to bookend. The irony behind this was that I was chasing, searching for a great book, where a great book found me. It was spanked on my desk by my tenth grade English teacher Mrs. Walke. It was about the truth behind boys. It is titled Lord of the Flies. Unlike the boys in this book, who get to run unrestricted, there was no need for running, searching, and exploring in my town, because everything needed to know has already been discovered. It is the digital age, where a device the size of a cassette can replace a pocketwatch, library, boombox, and mail carrier. Most of my reading do occur on my smartphone, skimming through online articles and

Now when I start a good book I find myself not being able to put it down, reading the whole thing within a week. I then find myself looking back to that little 4th grade girl who fell in love with reading after a struggling year. As I am reminded I owe all of my successes and love of reading and ability to comprehend to that one teacher. Who wanted each of her students to succeed, and saw in me what others didn’t. She looked at me as the whole child and knew I needed to read something I can relate to, and then helped me blossom into a little

Since the time reading was introduced to me, I can remember having either the crisp pages of a book or the smooth surface of a Kindle in my hands. This love for reading started with books written by Roald Dahl, Barbara Parks, Lemony Snicket, and J.K. Rowling. The books about Junie B. Jones that Barbara Parks wrote are the books that come to mind when I try to remember my earliest favorite books. I cannot recall any of the plots or really any of the characters from the books, except for Junie B. Jones of course, but I know I read those books like crazy. After I had finished most of the Junie B. Jones books, I transitioned into reading some of the works by Roald Dahl and this was the first noticeable change that occurred in the kind of books I was reading. I started with books that were filled with childish humor and switched to books that had peculiar plot lines and sarcastic humor.

Transitioning from reading books for enjoyment to educational advancement didn’t stimulate my interest at all. I consider my reading habits pathetic for a number of reasons. The first reason is that throughout my combined seven years of junior high and high

From the first day I read a book in school, to the last day of high school, and now in college not one day has gone by that I have not read something. From “The diary of Anne Frank” in elementary school or “Romeo and Juliet”

Ernest Hemingway once said, “There is no friend as loyal as a book” (“Quotes”). Since the end of the third grade year, I have had a roaring passion for storytelling in all forms; radio, theater, and books. Journeying with the characters, I grew to thrive on their riveting adventures. I solved mysteries with Nancy Drew, attended Hogwarts with Harry Potter, and faced dragons with Bilbo Baggins. Of all of these adventures, I hold those of Percy Jackson the closest to my heart because of the deep rooted friendships I found through it.

My reading experiences have always been enjoyable. I love to read when I find an interesting book. It’s easy for me to be sucked into a book if the story catches my eye. I mostly like to read teen romance novels. They appeal to me simply because of my interest in a love story. My parents hate buying me books because they know I’ll be finished reading within a week or so. Reading has always been really easy to me. It seems almost natural to be sucked into other worlds. The words start to flow over the pages and suddenly it feels like I’m not even reading anymore. Unless I have to read a book for school or it doesn’t catch my attention, I might have a hard time bringing myself to read it.

As a child, my interests were more focused on reading than writing. In elementary school I fell in love with books. Initially I read simple children’s books, much like everybody else in my class, but it did not take long for my passion to drive me to read more difficult writings. Fiction books quickly became a replacement for any childhood toys. Instead of blocks or stuffed animals I would ask my parents for books. Since they were aimed at young readers, they tended to be short. I found myself going through them within days, and then soon several hours. Towards the end of elementary school I was reading series like Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events. I was captivated, and reading truly opened up a whole new world for me.