Favorite Childhood Book

Blog Challenge Day Twelve: Favorite Childhood Book

First and foremost, one of the best gifts my mother ever gave me was the love of and deep respect for reading. I do not just think of it in terms of all the wonderful books I've read and will read but in terms of how closed and small my world would be without that ability. Early exposure to reading opened my world to expression, education, writing and a myriad of other wondrous things. I can not imagine a world in which the simplest things would be a plaguing mystery without use of words. Street signs. Newspapers. Medications. Instructions. How trapped and helpless would I be without the magic of words?

I am told that I've had a book in my hand since age two.
Thank you mom.
Best. Gift. Ever.

That being said, I don't remember having a favorite childhood book. I DO remember that I had a Sesame Street book ordered with my name worked into the story. It was awesome. Big Bird talking to ME? Really?! How cool was I??

I have a collection of books that was special ordered for me when I was a wee one that I treasure. I've never seen or heard of the series in any store I've been to. I love them. They are full of magical creatures and little virtuous messages .... And scrawled crayon remnants of my childhood.

But I can not pinpoint any one book that was a bonafide fave.

I do, however, have distinct memories of when reading began to have meaning and bring substance to my life.
Oddly, in the genre of horror. ..... Considering the source, perhaps not odd at all.

There was a period when my mother was really really into Stephen King novels. She devoured them. And I wanted to be a part of anything grown up and "big". So I followed her into that literary journey. I became terrified by Cujo, mesmerized by The Shining and completely obsessed with It. More than that, it was during this time that I became aware of what reading awakened in me. I felt the wings of my imagination stretch, flex and take flight. I understood that my vocabulary was growing, my ability to write was developing, my thoughts expanding and my world opening. I learned about relaxing through reading and escaping and broadening my thoughtscapes. Essentially, I learned about the power of learning.

Mental murals and cerebral scrapbooks.

This was the first time I had even the slightest comprehension that my mind and my education was something - if not the only thing - that can never be taken from me. It's mine.

These days I'm thrilled about poking around to read and learn things I'm not yet familiar with.

I love Love LOVE books. Real books. Books with pages.
I love losing myself in them, trading them, sharing them, finding myself in them, losing myself in them and finishing one with the absolute certainty that I've added a few dimensions to my orbit and am vastly more curious than before about, well, EVERYTHING.

So, thank you Cujo and thank you Jack and thank you Pennywise <shiver>
And thank you to the writers who keep expanding the universe.
And thank you to all my geeky friends who share my passion and keep the circle / cycle of pages going.
... And, again, thank you mom.

"Oh, the places you'll go!" - Dr Suess