I love to read. That hasn’t always been the case. I’m reminded of a required reading from Mrs. Kieklak’s class. We had to read The Sign of the Beaver, and that was when my first thoughts of suicide began. Terrible, terrible book. My love of reading probably began just a few short years ago. Now it is a hobby that I like to keep all to myself. I appreciate the relationship that can develop between a person and a book. It’s a connection that I find to be even stronger than one might have with a TV show or movie. The experience is strangely intimate. But there are times when I fantasize about the benefits of being illiterate. Yes, that is right. The blessings of illiteracy.
My mind went to that weird place one day while I was transporting our foster dog to Rome, Georgia. I was in a hurry to get Brutus to the North Broad Animal Clinic, so that he would not miss his ride to Pennsylvania. I found myself tailgating an ambulance. This ambulance was obviously not in any kind of rush. Sirens were silenced and the driver was going the speed limit. After twenty minutes or so of riding this truck’s ass, I realized I completely missed the large message on the back doors. KEEP BACK 500 YARDS. I hadn’t been keeping back 500 centimeters. But what could really happen?
I visualized a corpse flying out of the double doors after an abrupt stop, and the body splattering on my windshield like a big bug. For some reason, this body is naked and fat in my mind. It’s hairy and genderless, too. I don’t know why.
I began to wonder what most likely would have occurred if I did not know how to read:
Officer: “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
Me: (while batting my eyelashes) “I’m sorry officer, but I haven’t a clue what I did wrong.”
Officer: “Well, little lady, you were following too closely to that ambulance. It says on the back, KEEP BACK 500 YARDS.”
I would burst in to tears, admitting that I didn’t know how to read. It was my deep dark secret. He would take pity on me, and Brutus would make his ride in the nick of time.
None of this happened. I just thought about it most of the trip. It also occurred to me that one must read to pass the permit test. Oh, and the officer resembled LL Cool J.
I have always leaned toward nonfiction. I’ve never been a huge science fiction gal. My imagination is already entirely too active. But The Hunger Games has changed my life. I get lost in the characters names--Katniss, Peeta, Rue. I have become so obsessed with this series that I believe I actually live in this book. I am a character, with a weird name, fighting for my life. I feel equipped to live in the wilderness and hunt for game. I can handle Nunchucks and am quite handy with a Trident. Yes, I am delusional.
I could never find The Hunger Game series my friends were raving about when I went to the book store. For one, I don’t like to speak or make eye contact with salespeople. And two, I was looking in the wrong section. You can find these books in Adolescent Literature. I’m not going to give you an overview of these books. Just go read them. There are three. And then you will understand what I am talking about, and we can start our own book/fan club.
Nostalgia has been kicking in lately, and I’ve revisited some of my childhood favorites as well as books I read to my students last year. I highly recommend the following:
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| Best book ever |
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I love how some of these classics take you right back to a moment in your childhood. I recall reading Matilda in the fourth grade when I lived at 1815 Topf. I remember reading in my bedroom and wondering why organized was organised and color was colour. I also recall that there were bad words in the book, but that I didn’t dare want to tell my dad. There it was....the intimacy of reading.
So go back and read one of these books if you get the chance. It’s a good rainy or sunny day activity. You’ll be surprised how much you remember and how much you forgot. And if there are some you haven’t read before, become a member of paperbackswap.com. You’ll receive the books via snail mail and can read them under the covers. No one has to know. It can be your little secret.
