Some stories are drawing like magnets, making us dive into the wonderful and miraculous world of the author’s imagination, and, personally, it inspires me and stimulates my own fantasy.I hated learning to read. However, my grand-ma figured a remedy to that – she put away the school book and gave me instead a really fascinating, impossible to put down story for kids to practice my reading. And, despite my hater of the long and tough process that reading was then, I found that I wanted to know what was going to happen next so much, that I kept reading, even though my grand-ma fell asleep and was no longer checking whether I was actually reading. The story in question was “The Magician of the Emerald City” by A. Volkov
.When I started going to school, I was at first a very attentive and serious student. But after some two years I figured that most of the classes were too slow for me and I was getting bored. That was were reading came as a much needed rescue – I was hiding an open story book under a school book, and as far as there were no pictures in the first one, no teacher was noticing (we had to make paper or plastic book covers for all the school books, and using those for story books proved to be an extremely successful strategy 😉 ). I guess, they didn’t really care as far as I was not talking to my neighbors or playing with rulers and rubbers, and seemingly enlightening myself by some learning. My best friends at that time were Penrod by Booth Tarkington, Enid Blyton’s “The Five Find-Outers and Dog“, and “The Chronicles of Narnia“…
After school, books were unfailingly saving me from the boring and annoying home works. The same system worked worse with parents then at school – mom and dad had a special seventh sense for accurately guessing when their kids were doing something else than what was needed. But I was lucky here as well – being the eldest of three kids, I was left to face my homework alone as long as my grades were ok.
My grand-pa was also teaching all his kids and grand-kids to love and value books. He managed to create a very big and rich home library, with some really rare and precious books that was and is the pride of our family. I can still clearly see him sitting in that old discolored armchair in his office, a book in his hand. He could sit there for hours, sometimes also absently drinking tea from his tall glass, his eyes running along the small black lines of letters on the book page.
So, now I’m working, and I’m writing my own books, and reading still is one of my favorite entertainments. There is hardly anything better than a great book while having a nice cup of sweet tea with chocolate after a day of work simply as a way of relaxing…
In addition, books are a great distraction. Sometimes problems or difficult situations rise so many emotions inside me, that I get confused and cannot see any way out, any perspective to it. In this case, a good story takes my mind off it, and then, when I am finally back to reality, the emotions have lessened and a new perspective is waiting for me.
And, of course, I read to learn. There is so many things that interest me, from marketing to ship building and sailing, that sometimes I think that a whole lifetime isn’t enough to read even half of it.
One thing is irrevocable though – I can’t imagine my life without these great and always reliable friends that are books.