I can't believe it's already June, and already time for the second installment of my Friday Firsts series. My question for today is: What's the first book that turned you into an avid reader?
My answer to the question isn't at all obvious. Even before I could read myself, I was always read to by my parents. I could devote an entire post to going on and on about some of my favorite children's classics (Blueberries for Sal, the Frances books, and Amelia Bedelia, just to name a few). That's why it may come as a surprise to know that as much as I loved all of those, my answer to this question is actually a book called Gertie's Green Thumb.
I was probably in first or second grade when I read this, just when I was really starting to tackle chapter books on my own. I distinctly remember it being part of a big stack of books I checked out from our town's tiny library one summer. I also remember racing through it while sitting out on our front porch. What I can't remember is exactly what the book was about or why I liked it so much (the cover's certainly a little strange looking!). All I know is that once I finished it, I wanted to start reading the next book in my stack right away. Whether it's entirely accurate or just a mis-rememberance on my part, this is the book that I consider as the beginning of my habit of never being without a book.
So which book turned you into a bookworm? Was is a beloved classic, or an unusual pick like mine?
So which book turned you into a bookworm? Was is a beloved classic, or an unusual pick like mine?
Like you, I was read to before I could read, although I don't remember the actual books...Mom tells me I had them memorized and would correct anyone who didn't read it as written (which my dad did just to hear it corrected.) But I do remember falling in love with two books read aloud by my sixth grade teacher, Mrs. Hudson. She read Bears of Blue River (an Indiana book) and Charlotte's Web (probably when it was first published...imagine...) I LOVED all the Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys books, and read them all, one after another. That's why I don't worry about what kids are reading, as long as they are, and why I love to read aloud to my fifth graders. That may well be the only thing they remember about my class. (Who can remember the first person to teach you how to do long division or fractions? Nobody. But who could forget crying when Charlotte dies? Nobody. I rest my case.)
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