I’ve got some time to kill before I head home so this is what I got.
I have never truly been “into” books and I guess that means that I never really had the desire to even pick one up. I didn’t read a lot when I was young but when I would read something, I would fall in love with it.
I remember liking children’s books like
The Berenstain Bears and similar books, though the bear books were definitely my favorites. Sometime around my middle elementary school years I found gems like
Shiloh,
The Giver,
Old Yeller—you know, the standards I suppose. I am also a pretty big fan of a few of Roald Dahl books, my favorite and one of my favorite books of all time is
Fantastic Mr. Fox, I also really love
Danny, the Champion of the World.
From there I hit the
Goosebumps phase. My mom was proud that I had an interest in books because naturally, she wanted me to read, so she bought me the entire collection. I have no idea where that collection is now—probably sold it at a garage sale—but I did like R.L. Stine’s scary stories. I read a lot of his books, including the ones that were aimed for teenagers.
In my middle school year, I kind of took a dip. I didn’t really read much and nothing really interested me. I think I remember reading
The Hobbit in a class—which I really liked—but other than that, it’s all a big blur. My freshman English teacher was a very hard teacher and he was notorious for his arduous schoolwork. Immediately from the outset we took reading tests to see what would challenge us the most. If you scored high, you started on Dickens’
Great Expectations, Hamilton’s
Mythology and Shakespeare’s sonnets. This was pretty tough, I had gone from reading nothing to reading a ton of stuff, all at the same time. I grew to dislike Dickens and Shakespeare but this was due mostly to the fact that I read them at a rushed pace. In that same year, I read three Dickens novels,
Romeo and Juliet, Homer’s
The Iliad and selected books from
The Bible (New King James Version.)
I didn’t have a good sophomore teacher, we only read three books which were again, standard high school fodder:
To Kill a Mocking Bird,
Of Mice and Men and
Lord of the Flies. These were interesting books but I didn’t really like them, save for the Steinbeck one. This is where I read a lot of his books and I also read
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest during this time.
My junior year was where I truly peaked. I was selected in some gifted and talented thing for writing so that same freshman English teacher had me reading tons and tons of books at a time (he was now the head of the department.) He would actually just give me the books, which were mine to keep, to read and he expected me to read them at a high speed. The first book he gave me was Camus’
The Stranger which had a lasting impact on me. I read a ton of books during this time: five Shakespeare plays,
Moby Dick, multiple novels by Vonnegut, Faulkner, Hardy, Bronte, Dickens, Orwell and a bunch of philosophy books. In between these books I would write essays for him and I guess the point was to make me a well-read, balanced student. It paid off I guess but this turned me off to reading a lot. I guess the books I was reading were of high quality but I couldn’t really enjoy them. I still have all of them but I seldom reach for any of them. The English class I took that year was also pretty hard because we read nine novels in the span of three months. That’s where I began my hate for Hawthorne and also read the infamous
Catcher in the Rye,
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and
The Crucible—to name a few.
My senior year was a waster in that we only read experts of novels, the only full works we read were
Inferno and
Othello.
In college, you don’t really read much for classes. They teach you how to write research papers and such but they never incorporate reading into this. That’s something I really don’t understand, don’t you need to read a lot in order to write well? I have read some books during these times that I really like, like
Things Fall Apart and
Lolita, but I haven’t found too much new material. The thing is, I feel like I have read a lot in my life—which I probably haven’t—but I don’t think it has paid off, I don’t write well and its not like I have this vast intelligence at all.
I guess, I just haven’t found a lot in reading that I like, though I keep taking stabs at it. I did like the
Potter books though, those are quite good.
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Things could be different but they’re not…