As long as I can remember, I’ve enjoyed reading. Not necessarily and not always deep reading, but reading, nonetheless. As a girl, I went through Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Bobbsey Twins, etc. I loved the mysteries! My method was to read the first chapter or two to get the premise and then the back chapter to see how it all turned out. I’d then go back and read the whole book to see if it was logical, if I could catch a mistake, or to see how “they” arrived from Point A to Point B.
To this day, I still do that when watching TV. No, I can’t see the ending but I make guesses (don’t ask my husband how annoying that can be) and I’m probably 90% accurate.
My mother always had a pile of magazines on that middle seat of the sofa – the one no one ever sits on – to encourage my brothers and me to read. It drove my dad nuts! He needed order and by 5:15 pm every day, we scrambled to “pick up” the main floor as he walked through the door each day at 5:25. Every day it was perfectly neat – except for that pile of magazines in the middle of the sofa. Mother would not budge on that issue and he finally gave up. I’m pretty sure my brothers never read one magazine from that pile but I loved to. Probably if there were more “manly” magazines about guns, or hunting, or golf, or other sports, my brothers’ interests would have peaked. But not in my house! We had the “safe” ones – Good Housekeeping, Family Circle, Women’s Day. I managed to sneak into my brother’s room occasionally and read Boy’s Life and Mad Magazine. Oh my, what inspiration! Not!
And then there was the Bible – back in the day of only the King James version. I went to Christian elementary school, so I read, studied and memorized major portions of it. I really appreciated in my teen years when the Good News For Modern Man version came out although it took me YEARS to accept the fact that it, too, was ordained by God! And now I love my NIV version. There are many, many versions but I stick with the NIV (New International Version).
Reading was a form of escape for me, depending on the story, placing myself right into the pages becoming the rags to riches girl, or the poor little rich girl, or what have you. It was a fantasy world. When we visited my grandmother’s home, the only thing I had to spend time with was books. My brothers could play in the barn and in the woods and climb trees, and explore. It was the 50’s. I always, and I mean always had to wear a dress. My grandmother would not have approved and would have read my mother and me the riot act if I wore shorts or slacks. Then in the 60’s, I got in trouble with my grandmother because my dresses were too short. So then I went for the “granny dress” style just to make peace for the day. And I read! It was a big old Victorian house with many book shelves full of many books. I read and I read and I read. There were a lot of classics there so I was well “fed”.
For various reasons, mainly life getting in the way, I have slacked off on my reading. I’ve come to realize I’m worse for it. I’ve missed the quiet concentration on the words on the pages. I’ve missed the thought-provoking passages. I’ve missed the laughing-out-loud type books. I’m glad I finally realized it. I’m back! Any book recommendations for me?