One of my favorite things about Christmas morning was seeing the books my parents and grandparents wrapped up for me. Whenever someone gives me a book, I make a point to try and read it. So you can see why my "To Be Read" list is so long. I even put the book my high school English teacher gave me. It fills me with a sense of understanding when someone knows the type of story I would like.
When I was about ten years old, my mom gave me the collector's edition from Barnes and Noble of Jane Austen's 7 novels. I've only read 4 of her books so far, but I think it gave me a love of owning and reading books. Even if I don't particularly like a book I've read, I still keep it because I might know someone else that might like it.
When I was in elementary school, I used to read on the way home after getting picked up. I would even stay in the car sometimes if it was a real page-turner. I would wake up as if from a daze to find that 30 minutes had passed since my mother pulled up in the driveway and I was sitting in a parked car. The girl we carpooled with teased me endlessly, making fun of my incessant love for books. Because of it, I stopped for a few years, becoming more focused on my friends and social life.
While I am glad that I became more extroverted in those years of middle school which is a really formative time in everyone's life, I wish I hadn't given up my habit of reading. Thankfully, I rediscovered it and was able to continue.
There are some books that I come back to and it's like an old friend, like the Harry Potter series or Nancy Drew. There are new authors that I have called in love with, like Rainbow Rowell or Becky Albertalli. But the feeling is always the same when I close or open a book, one of belonging and connection with the people that live in those pages.
