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Finding Myself in the Pages of a Book
“Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing” -Benjam Franklin. One of my earliest memories was learning how to read, and as ironic as it seems now, I hated every second of it. I remember sitting on the living room floor with my dad listening to seemingly endless cassette tapes while I was trying to read along with the fifteen page books that came with them. It wasn’t until I was in the first grade that I remember opening a book and feeling like I had come home. In the third grade, I started reading the Junie B. Jones series one book at a time. This completely changed my life; I was the only one of my friends that loved books, and was teased by this “old fashioned” approach. I was obsessed with the crackle of a new book when it is opened for the first time, and the smell of the pages; I found a home for myself in books.
I found comfort through the pages of a novel, and felt as if I had lost a close family member every time I finished a book. What came next was a whirlwind of novels, bookcases, and library cards. I couldn’t get enough, I was completely immersed and overwhelmed by the world I stumbled into and fell in love with. It wasn’t until I was older that I discovered why I had the desire to read and write so intensely. I was drawn into a world where I could be anyone I wanted and I could go anywhere. While I was reading, I had freedom and independence; two things that I craved so desperately. I loved the history of books and the idea that I was reading the thoughts of someone that lived and died years before me, but still related to them in a way I couldn’t explain.
I could escape into books and as a child, I made friends with imaginary characters, and fell in love with places I’d never been too. I knew that these different lives I was reading about would be better than any life I could ever have in reality. I remember reading The Series of Unfortunate Events and was amazed that an author could make me feel so deeply for these characters. This is what drew me into writing, I was fascinated that authors could create their own worlds and have complete control. To this day, I still love to sit in my room surrounded by my books, reading for hours at a time. Sometimes I go back to those first memories and moments of reading and I see a little girl who fell in love with writing and reading and never looked back.
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I was inspried to write this article by an intense love of reading. I hope anyone that reads this can relate to the feeling of finding a passion through literature.