For a while now I’ve been wanting to give appreciation to the books that set off my wild and thrilling love affair with the written world. Whilst, as a young child, I had a collection of Disney books with focus on princesses and the like, I didn’t properly succumb to the wiles of paper-bound delights until just before I entered the hardships of those dreadful teenage years.
One particular Christmas morning I was smacked in the face (not literally) with a black cover, from which a sinister red spider stared, enticing me to delve into the story contained within.
Much to my surprise, I quickly became obsessively engrossed, and from then on, I started collecting what I could get my hands on. The internet wasn’t available to me at the time, so I had to make do with a small YA section of a store. I didn’t complain; it actually had some good stuff!
I still have these beloved books safely tucked away, but I don’t think I’ll ever read them again, as I don’t want to sully that blissful nostalgia. I mean, there’s the possibility that I wouldn’t even like them now, as my tastes over the years have drastically changed.
Other than those long-running series’ I became invested in, I also picked up some standalone novels. For the life of me I can’t remember most of them, apart from one!
I’ll forever be grateful to these authors, as they’re responsible for bringing me happiness and wonder in a difficult time. I admittedly didn’t have many friends, and without much of a social life, I spent a significant amount of time indoors, so reading became something very special.
What books got you into reading? What’s the earliest books you can remember? Let me know, I’m genuinely interested!
Thanks for reading!