I am so happy to be here today at Freshfiction.com. I blog daily at www.redrom.com/, but it’s nice to have a new place to meet people. As I was thinking about what to write about to you today, I realized I didn’t want to talk about writing but reading. Writers usually are always readers first. And as that is the case with me, I relate most with being a reader. That’s what I do. That’s what I am.
Reading saved me. It has always saved me. From before I could read myself, my mother’s daily and nightly reading to me saved me, kept me from thinking my own thoughts sometimes, giving me new thoughts to think about. Reading put me into worlds I had never been, worlds I wanted to go to.
Reading was something I could do when all else failed. In fourth grade, I was tested at 12th grade reading level and a 2nd grade math level. Things have changed relatively little in that regard, the wide disparity still there. But then and now, reading was the thing I could do and do well, sometimes the only thing.
I read during my labors with both children. I’ve read in airplanes. I’ve read on long car rides in the rain. I’ve read during sad afternoons, during long waits in the car for children to finish their appointments and classes. I’ve read in every place I’ve ever traveled to. I read whatever is in front of me: newspapers, cereal boxes, instruction booklets.
I don’t have graphomania (the constant need to write) but I do have bibliomania. I will admit to that right now, no holds barred. I am obsessed with reading.
Now reading helps me make a living, reading and her twin writing. Reading is what I can do for others out of love. Reading is a gift I give to others out of friendship.
I read fast. At school, my colleagues have loved me during hiring committees because I could read through the application folders faster than anyone else. They loved me during writing assessments because of the same thing. It’s my own true skill, something I didn’t have to work at, learn to do. It’s in my brain due to no training on my part.
I like to hold what I read, so I worry about ebooks, about kindles, about electronic everything. I like a book, being able to flip back and forth, feel the pages under my fingers. I like to carry it with me, even reading in the dry sauna or some times at the pool, water everywhere. I like to read outside, inside, in the sun, in the shade. This isn’t going to disintegrate into Green Eggs and Ham, but you get my point.
Today, I am thankful for my reading skills, my reading love. I’ve read a lot today already, and it’s a good thing, a nice thing, a wonderful thing.
What does reading do for you? How do you feel about reading? Is it your first true love?