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Thursday, January 14, 2010

Thinking Back

Books come to us in different ways and from different places. Today I was thinking about the Lightning Thief and remembering the first time I picked it up. Weird that I can't remember my brother's birthday, but I can remember the first time I saw LT like it was yesterday...

It was another wonderful day in the library. I already had a stack of books in my hands, but I was looking through the new YA section in the back of the library. My eyes scanned the titles, looking for one that caught my eye. There in the middle of the second shelf sat the huge white binding of the Lightning Thief. I plucked it from the shelf and looked over the cover. Someday I'm going to buy the hardcover edition just because I like the cover for that one better (don't ask why, I don't know). I flipped it open and read the inside blurb. Right away, I was hooked. So I left the library with LT in my hands, excited to read it.

Go back a little farther to the first time my eyes fell on Harry Potter. I was somewhere around ten and my cousin -- who's a year older than me and no longer an avid reader -- gave the book to my mom so that we could read it. Mom agreed that I could read it as soon as she deemed it acceptable. She enjoyed the book, gave it her approval, and let me borrow it to read. Where my mom was passably interested in HP and willing to read the next book, I was enthralled. I HAD to read the next one ASAP. I read each one as fast as I could, waiting anxiously for the 5th, 6th, and 7th ones to come out. I don't remember much of how I came by the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th books, but I do remember when I was younger I would read the 4th book over and over again even though the scene where Voldemort comes back scared me to death. I read the final pages of the 5th book in my dad's car on the way to his house and then read it again. The 6th book I received at midnight, but couldn't stay up all night reading it because of a guest that didn't want to stay up all night reading it too. The 7th book I begged and begged to go to the midnight release, but my mom wouldn't take me. So we went at noon the next day. I started reading it the moment we got in the car and didn't stop until midnight that night. I ate while I read and refused to stop for anything.

Think back to the time you read your favorite book for the first time. Why did you pick it up? How did you feel when you read it, after you finished it? Do you still feel that same kind of wonder now, perhaps years later?

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