My Love For Books

I cannot remember a time in my life when I didn’t love reading and writing. My favorite books during my early childhood mostly consisted of Dr. Seuss books. I spent hours reading with my parents and on my own, we read a book before bed every night. When I was in Kindergarten I wrote my first book, about bunny rabbits. I spent hours making two copies of my picture book about what I believed bunnies did. My older sister became my first critic when she told me that my book was stupid and childish. I remember sobbing when a glass of water spilled on them and smudged the marker I had used to create them. My mom managed to salvage the books and they’re still in a box somewhere.

When I was younger, the amount of obligations upon me fewer and less likely to affect life in the long term, it was far easier to pursue my passion for fiction. School consumed less time, and the classes were introductions to various principles rather than in depth study. The books contained within the library of my elementary school weren’t great works of literature either. They were simple stories, with simple characters and events, but I loved them anyways. These simple things made sense, a comfort blanket that I simply had to reach into a basket on a shelf to find. When library time rolled around every week, I always managed to find three or four new ones to take home, and then read them all within a day or two. I had never been a particularly athletic child; I had the time and the will to devour as many stories as I possibly could.

Reading was the new outlet for my imagination and the stories I read fascinated me. They weren’t too unlike the scripts of computer games or the own stories I came up with on my own, but books actually had the action and emotional aspects written out. And again, while my peers were reading things about growing up, things that had morals and would teach valuable lessons (I remember one book about a shoplifter who had to do community service at an animal shelter), I read real fiction: Jurassic Park, Dragonriders of Pern, Lord of the Rings… Stuff of fantasy and science-fiction that let my mind stray from reality. Stuff that kept my imagination alive while I was being forced to learn multiplication and the names of countries. Of course, my teachers encouraged me to keep reading, as long as I wasn’t doing the reading in the middle of their lectures. But it wasn’t because of their influence, however, that kept me interested in books. It was because I loved it. It put pictures into my head and made me think. So I kept reading. But even then I knew reading wasn’t enough… Yes, the stories were fascinating, but they weren’t what I wanted. Back then I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but as middle school came to a close, I found it.

My love for writing started when I was around ten years old. I was extremely shy growing up. I had friends but only a handful, I would rather be alone with a book or be working on a story. My writing was my escape from whatever was going on in my life whether it was my grandma being sick or getting in a fight with my older sister, all I needed was a notebook and a pen to write whatever I was feeling out. This lead to notebook upon notebook being filled with stories of the handsome prince saving the princess, or hopeful tales of a shy girl meeting her true love. I was in charge of my own little world and I could make anything and everything happen. As I grew older I kept writing, even though I had outgrown my shyness. I kept writing because

For as long as I can remember I have always loved reading and writing. My mother was the one who nurtured my love for the language arts. Some of my more negative experiences in school, while painful, did help me to recognize my skills as a writer. Especially given that my childhood was not exactly a normal, I found a way to express my feelings through writing.

History has been my constant and my comfort for my entire life. My mother always encouraged my love of history, telling me stories about King Henry VIII, the War of the Roses, reading me the little house book, or buying me all the books I wanted on the simple subject all throughout my childhood. It has become my love and my passion and whether or not I become a history professor, I will without a doubt go into the field of history. I might do archaeology and combine both my love of history, and my joy of bones and dead people. I would have to study Anthropology to become that though and whilst I do enjoy that, I worry I will become too invested into that field and become a simple doctor. I know I would be happy to teach the

I wasn't as big of a fan of writing as I am now, I never hated it, although, it wasn't something I was totally into. I got into writing and English in general in the 9th grade. My English teacher at the time had us read ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’, which I not surprisingly came to love, then had us pick a dystopian themed book to read, and once again fell in love. The stories themselves were fantastic, but what actually fascinated me was how the authors made me understand and be sensible to everything the characters in the stories were feeling, physically and emotionally.

When I was growing up, I always had a passion for reading and telling stories. My mom has scrapbooks of my first stories written in awkward, over-sized letters complete with illustrations brought to life with crayons. Throughout my school years, I always had a book with me. The bigger the book was, the more I loved it. I was discouraged from pursuing a career in writing, but I had a passion for stories that only grew over time.

For most people, as children they start out reading picture books or short stories. But as they age people mature and engage in books that fulfill their interests and taste. Although it’s not the most unique process ever, well thats how I slowly became the writer I am, with a little help of my best friends. After I got into 5th grade I noticed that my school had a colossal library! I automatically felt the need to venture into it. I started wandering through each aisle but I felt a shock of disappointment. I remembered that I didn't know what kind of books I liked to read. I was so used to having other people assign me books to read that I never thought about reading books for fun. With that thought in my head, I rushed to get my best friend at the time, Makayla. When I told her about my setback, her face lit up like the sky on the fourth of July. All of a sudden she grabbed my wrist and pulled me through the halls until we arrived at the library. She started rummaging through the shelves and tossing out every other book she saw. After she grabbed almost half of the books, she stood in front of me as I had books piled to my nose. “That should be enough don't you think?” she beamed with a goofy smile on her face. I had to try not to laugh so the books wouldn’t fall to the ground. Because it was against school policy I could only check out three of the books but Makayla checked out two more for me and one for herself. After we raced back to class before the bell rang, and as I sat down in my desk I skimmed through the pages and observed what kind of books Makayla picked out for me. The books were supernatural books. I never read books like that before but I thought there's a first for everything. I got home that night and I sat down on my bed and started reading one of the books. I didn't know how long I was reading for because I got so caught up in

For as long as I can remember, I loved to read. There was never a distinct moment that clicked. Never did I see reading as a requirement; more so a desire. My desire to read paved the way for my need to tell my own stories. Aside from the stories I read, the ones I created brought a sense of satisfaction that I could never find elsewhere. My love for reading and writing is like the need for one to consume food and liquids to keep their body both nourished and hydrated. It’s a necessity! When I read or wrote, I craved peace and the need to escape into the world of endless possibilities. A place I can venture with no responsibilities and no worries. As I got older, my need to open a book and read, or write a story came natural. I was free!

Life as a teenager today can be very stressful and sometimes intense. One must reflect to outweigh these crazy times with special moments and special people. Being a team member in many Pine Richland High School Band programs has allowed me to dive in and move forward sharing my love for music and touching the lives of others.

Reading and writing have always been apart of me. From childhood to now. It was just something that my parents instilled in me. I knew how to read basic books and write before I even started pre-school. My parents made it a priority for me to read and write growing up, and the more I read, the fonder I was of it. I will read any type of literature, as long as it peaks my interest. I prefer romance and mysteries, but I try to be diverse when it comes to what I read. I want to make sure I get something out of the books I read, whether or not it is learning something knew about the world or myself, or looking at things in a new way.

Reading is an essential part of life and is the cornerstone of learning. Without it, you wouldn't be anything in life. Reading is one of the most valued commodities on earth. However, most people don't value reading as much as others do. When I was younger, reading was something that I valued, but the older I got the less I valued 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.

Throughout most of my life I have had one consistent goal; to become a veterinarian. I have had a continuous and solid passion for animals in all respects. This passion and love has fueled my in striving to achieve the dreams I have for myself after high school. The beginning of this story begins long before high school though.