Years ago, on a rainy Saturday morning, my dad drove my sisters and I to the library.
Standing in front of shelves of wrinkled paperbacks and glossy hardcovers, I ran my fingers over the spines of the books.
Outside, thunder streaked the darkish sky. Rain kissed the pavement.
Six years old, I sat on the library's wooden chair, my feet dangling far above the floor. Knobby elbows on the beige table, I ventured into the world of words.
The Rainbow Fish smudged oceanic watercolors before my eyes.
Chapter books based off the sitcom Full House made me giggle.
Nancy Drew picked me up in her blue convertible and took me on all her exciting mystery hunts. I included myself in her group of friends. Nancy and her tawny gold hair. Handsomely charming Ned Nickerson. Tomboyish George and adorably plump Bess.
In case you couldn't tell, I was a huge Nancy Drew fan. :)
A bookstore is a treasure. It's a place of tranquility, inspiration, and motivation. Shelves of art books, business manuals, and heart wrenching novels are mountains of gold. There's something earth-shatteringly miraculous about storytelling.
I've been reading since I was four. The first chapter book I read on my own was The Little Vampire. And if I knew you when I was reading it, chances are I probably bragged about it to you back then because I thought I was just so sophisticated and grown up.
There's a quote that says, "A reader lives a thousand lives before they die. The man who never reads lives only one."
And I believe that's true.
I've learned from every book I've had the pleasure of coming across, even the poorly written ones.
I've wept at the misfortunes of the lonely old man.
My heart broke when the teenage protagonist was called a freak.
I've cheered, clapped, loved, hated, lost, and appreciated.
I travelled to France with Julia Child. Italy with Liz Gilbert.
And you know what?
I want everyone to know.
I want them to know about the enchanting qualities of a clever tale.
I want you to smile at page 242 because things are looking up for the son and his estranged parents.
I want everyone to have a love affair with literature.
A cherished pastime among many is reading a good book, cuddled up on the couch after a long day of work or school. It's an escape.
Welcome to the Circus of Scripts! Step right up! Pick a world, any world. Choose through characters, conflicts. We got hypnotic sci-fi, heartwarming romance, side splitting humor memoirs! Anything ya want! Name it we got it.
For some reason, seeing a child reading makes me really happy. A tiny person, with glasses or a Spongebob shirt or velcro sneakers, criss cross applesauce on a bench reading.
Lately, I've felt myself growing up. That sounds bizarre, but the gears in my head are turning (as they have been for the past 18 years) and I'm figuring life out. The little tricks and steps of days.
And I could tell you all about how the paperclips are connecting but I'd probably just be going around in circles because if I start to think about everything too much, I just don't make sense anymore. Like now.
A couple weeks ago, I started to write a novel. It's not the first I've started, but it's the most I've ever typed for a concept. And?
And I'm proud of it and hopeful for its future.
Why?
Because I'm appreciating the process and the art. I want people to read it hungrily at 2 am -turning the pages as the lessons turn in their own heads.
It's 1:36 in the morning. Everybody's asleep except for the crickets, and I don't know if this post turned out like I wanted it to. There's a lot of "I's" and it seems to be more about me than about stories, but I needed to type this. This is all over the place, but I'm sure in the future I'll write about this again because hey, I'm a writer.
So pick up a collection of poems, a fantasy novel, a historical recollection, anything really.
Take it in your hands, open it, and read. :)
(PS: Pics are not mine. :)
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