The earliest memories I have of books are my dad reading to my brother and I before bed. He doesn’t believe it, but studies show that reading to young children puts them on the path to becoming lifelong readers. They grow up associating books with love and affection.

So, my bank account can stop groaning about all the books I buy, because I’m surrounding myself with love and affection.

Most people say what got them into reading was the Harry Potter books. I read those, too, and loved them like everyone else. I saw all the movies except Part 2 of Deathly Hollows in theaters. I have some merchandise, too. But the books that made me a reader are the Sweet Valley books.

I discovered them in my elementary school library when I was in second grade, and the obsession carried on until I started high school. The series followed identical twins Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield at various stages of their lives: childhood, middle school, high school, and college. For Christmas and my birthday, those were the books I wanted, but my parents had trouble finding them. They were published in the late 1980s and 1990s. The local used bookstore came to my rescue (and my parents) on more than one occasion regarding Sweet Valley.

As for my parents, they themselves are not hardcore readers. They own books, but don’t read them. My dad had gout in his ankle a few years ago and, as someone who is used to being on his feet all the time, he had trouble finding ways to keep himself distracted. Then, he said, “I know, I’ll read a book!”

He told me what book he wanted and I got it for him off his bookshelf. He started reading. Ten minutes later, he said: “Twelve pages! I’m done!”

While my parents appreciated the fact I liked to read, they never fully understood it. I know they would have preferred if I were a “normal” kid who rode a bicycle. They supported my book-buying habit for years, only because what they wanted to give I told them directly I would never use, so they shouldn’t waste money on buying it for me.

The person who most influenced my passion for reading, as well as writing, is my maternal aunt and godmother, Dianne. When my parents didn’t give me books, she did. She encouraged reading. As a librarian, she believed children should be allowed to read whatever they wanted and ask questions, so they could learn. No one else in my family understood my love for books, except her.

Reading has shaped my life in more ways than one. When I was 9, I read Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume and, immediately after finishing it, I started my own “novel.” After I finished that, I kept writing. I wrote more and more stories as the years went on, though not always finishing them. This led me to studying English in college, concentrating in creative writing- even though most of my family thought it would be the “safest” route to go into education.

While in college, I wrote an 84-page novella, Beautiful Danger, an excerpt of which was later published in the 40^th anniversary edition of the Curry Arts Journal; a one-act play titled Family Jewels; and other creative pieces spread out through my classes in school. Reading is responsible for all of that. And I will continue to read.