When Books Could Change Your Life: Why What We Pore Over At 12 May Be The Most Important Reading We Ever Do ›
Oh man, do you remember these books? Reading this article got me thinking about all those books that are the signposts of my childhood. My copy of The Secret Garden has dogeared pages and a broken spine, I’ve owned it since I was ten and refuse to get rid of it. I have my old copies of The Chronicles of Narnia, too. I’m collecting vintage copies of all thirteen books of L. Frank Baum’s Oz series. Beauty by Robin McKinley is my favorite book of all time (of ALL TIME) and I first read that when I was eleven.
When I was growing up, some of my best friends were books. Dorothy and Ozma were my playmates, so were the Pevensie kids, Laura and Mary Ingalls and Betsy, Tacy and Tib. I had the most wonderful adventures inside the pages of those books. Once I slipped into the world I could spend hours there. I learned my sense of wonder and of magic there, what it meant to be a family, what it meant to be myself. I even learned about death and loss there.
I love to read, I L-O-V-E to read. There’s a book on my desk right now waiting for me to dive in when I finish typing. I’ll read damn near anything anyone recommends to me. And some of these new books make me laugh and make me cry, move me or shake me profoundly. But when I’m at loose ends with nothing waiting for me in the “to read” pile, I often find myself revisiting all my old friends. And I still love them all as much as I always did. And I always will.
