Personal Narrative: Why I Love Reading

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I can’t remember a time where I didn’t love reading. My earliest memories are of me learning to read in preschool. The teachers would show us pictures of an item that was a three-letter word such as “cat” or “pig” and then show us the letters that would make up those words. I was always so excited for that time of the day when we learned words. I was never interested in making crafts or playing music I wanted to bypass everything else and go straight to reading lessons. I wanted to know how all the letters came together and made different words. I loved learning how to spell my name. I can remember how I loved the way the capitol A looked and how excited I was that it was the start of my own name. Teachers would tell my parents that I was enjoying…show more content…
They bought me a big spiral notebook and would help me learn to write once a day. This didn’t interest me as much as reading the words. I have never liked writing as much as reading. I remember always dreading writing assignments in primary school and on into middle school. Even still I don’t care for writing very much, but I still love reading. My favorite memories from my childhood are the ones of my mother reading me chapter books. She would read me things like “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” and “Little House on the Prairie.” My favorite thing she would read to me was the Harry Potter series and it remains my favorite series of all time. My mom reading me these books as well as others when I was young got me started on my love for reading throughout my…show more content…
They all loved our writing classes and would write stories and articles and spoken word pieces every chance that they got but not me. I enjoyed literature class more, reading about the tragedies of Hamlet and the exciting adventures Beowulf. When I was in writing classes I always felt like writing assignments were so constricting. I was never interested in the topics we were writing about or even if I did find the topic interesting I would rather research and read about it, not write about my findings. However, in my junior year of high school we were given an assignment to write three narrative stories about anything we wanted. We were going to read everyone’s stories in class and talk about them each day. I didn’t know where to start, as per usual with me, so, I went to my teacher and asked for help. He told me I could tell a story about myself, talk about something no one knows about me, since the stories would be anonymous. This got me thinking about what people don’t know about me and I ended up writing about my anxiety and it was so easy to write about. Just the feeling of getting something off my chest was great. This really changed the way I looked at writing. I always thought of writing in terms of books I liked reading. I always held my writing up next to highly praised works. It wasn’t fair to compare my class papers to the works of Mark Twain and
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