Originally published on April 11, 2016
Reading has been my favorite activity of choice for most of
my life, up until I started college. I am still trying to figure out why that
is. What sort of mentality did I create within the first few weeks that had me
put down a book and not pick one up again for months? I can think of several
reasons that could have contributed. I do not own many e-books, so using my
phone for between-class downtime consists of checking on social media or catching
a few minutes of Netflix. If I had more e-books, would I read more? Also, there
is much required reading for classes that is not terribly entertaining. If
reading was less of a chore, would I read more?
To me, thinking about reading is synonymous with thinking
about childhood. Childhood is when you let your imagination run wild, and the
books I read brought more material to work with. Why else did I insist on
dressing up like a pioneer girl from Little
House on the Prairie two Halloweens in a row, or find the base camps for
the imaginary warrior cats that lived in our woods, as though the Warriors saga took place there? I
remember trading book back and forth with my brothers and going to the
library to emerge with a giant stack. Every holiday a new book was added to a
series. I would read while I ate, read outside, read inside, read at recess, and
in between classes.
Reading brought me my first experiences of friendship due to
common interest. I did not watch the same TV shows or listen to the same music
as others before high school, but my best friends and I read the same books. A Series of Unfortunate Events, Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, Percy
Jackson, and Warriors were the
main ones. I remember eagerly awaiting for the next books to come out and
sometimes we would just trade the newest book around. It would have a different
owner every day as we devoured them during middle school.
They say the best way to become a better writer is to read
and imitate the story styles you like. I was no exception to this rule, having
written things such as Warriors
fanfiction; a concept similar to Little
House; and my main project, which had humble beginnings as a planned series
at a school of magic, just like Harry
Potter. Many things have brought me to where I am today, but reading
probably had the most to do with it. Reading was my childhood. Reading shaped
me like TV shows and music shaped others. I owe a lot of who I am to the
stories I read then.
This school year I have read two new books, both of which
during breaks despite looking forward to said books for months, and I can think
of at least two more I want to read. I do not want to keep this pattern up during
the next school year. I want to find again that joy of being lost in my own
head for hours. Or perhaps this is my way of telling myself I want to be a
child again and experience that limitless imagination and wonder. Either way, I will answer the call.
If you too are feeling this slump and emptiness, take the
advice I plan on acting on during the summer: reread your favorite childhood
books. Have a nostalgia party with yourself. Feel like a ten-year-old again. Enjoy
the trip down memory lane with your childhood heroes.
No comments:
Post a Comment