“I grew up being read to. I learned to read sitting on my grandfather’s lap, following his finger across the page as he read poetry, stories, all of that, more. The words came to life… PopPop was a fan of the Philadelphia Athletics’ baseball team and of Edgar Allen Poe. I heard a lot of Poe…
“When I was old enough, I began peeking into Algernon Blackwood, Bram Stoker, M. R. James. From Lovecraft to Bradbury, the road is long and the voyaging upon it a rich experience.
“I believe in the importance … to know where things come from, to get a look back and see where the ideas, the images, the tropes that we’re using today originated.”
–Larry Santoro, from episode 24 of Tales to Terrify audio magazine.
How did you come to be a reader? Do you have early memories of learning to read?
Hey! I recognize that quote! I listened to this earlier this week.
I remember my mom reading a very large mushroom encyclopedia to use when I was in the 1st or 2nd grade. She had received it as a gift over Xmas, but my sister and I were fascinated by the pictures of the various mushrooms – funny shapes and bright colors. I clearly remember my mom explaining the word ‘edible’ and asking why it wasn’t ‘eatable’.
My brothers and I were also read to, and I honestly can’t say when I began reading for myself. Pretty early, though. I did have the idea for a while that the thicker the book, the harder it must be to read. Then one night my aunt, who had been reading a Bobbsey Twins book to us, was too tired, so I picked it up and tried … and the world has never been the same! Another big memory is the day in junior high when I came upon an intriguing title in the library: Divine Comedy? Divine AND comedy? Some very unfamiliar words in there, but fascinating, and fantastic pictures! Once again the world changed. Sad to say, though, I took rather a long time to realize the importance of an author’s name. I find myself being grateful for them in the same way that I am for other beautiful forces of nature.
I don’t remember being read to. I suppose my mom read to me every now and then, but it wasn’t part of a daily ritual. I knew the ABC song when I started school, but that’s about it. Kindergarten was about the letter sounds and number identification and daycare. Just something to do to pass the time until I could go home and play in the woods.
Actual reading started in first grade. I remember sitting in class, the teacher writing syllables on the board and putting them together into words. I distinctly remember that moment of illumination. “What…what is she doing? What’s this for? It’s too hard…oh, hey! I get it!”
And then I read my way through most of the school library.
i don’t remember my Mom reading to me, but I know she did. what I do remember is the flashcards she made to help me learn to recognize words. The cards started with easy words like “the” and “cat” and “read” and little kid words like that, but every time we came across a word in a book that I asked what it meant or had trouble sounding out (I’m still talking kids books here, like Berenstien bears and Dr Suess), she’d make a flashcard for it. I specifically remember “handkerchief” being a nearly impossible word for me to learn.
it was pretty cool when i could read Dr. Suess’s Hop on Pop to myself.
when I run into people who say “I hate reading!”, it makes me want to cry.