There is an on-line contest going on -- the What Book Got You Hooked Contest -- that by voting for a favorite book a stash of children's books can be won for disadvantaged kids in the state.
My boss thought it would be interesting if we folks back here in the editorial offices would write a few paragraphs about the first book we can remember that inspired us to become readers.
We have. It should run in an upcoming edition of the Tulsa World on the Opinion page.
I won't get into what book I chose, no sense in writing the same thing twice, although I am often accused of that by my critics. But that early encounter with a children's book, read from my mom's lap, certainly had an influence on my later reading habits or at least my desire to read to my son.
I admit, I was not one of those kids who spent their summer vacation, or anytime for that matter, reading. But the foundation was always there.
I read the usual books in elementary school. The girls read Nancy Drew and us guys read stuff about football. There was always a short book about some kid who overcame adversity and became an All-American.
Reading in high school was done mostly for book reports and I have to admit that some were done with Cliff Notes. Sorry, Mrs. Nelson (my high school English teacher who I suspect is no longer with us). I did, however, read most everything Mark Twain wrote while I was in high school.
But somewhere around college I discovered John Steinbeck. I devoured almost everything he wrote. "The Grapes of Wrath" remains my all-time favorite book. "Of Mice and Men" was a life-changer. Then came Ernest Hemingway and then to Dostoevsky. I have had my flings with fantasy. I loved "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy and even almost understood Carlos Castaneda. I tried to understand James Joyce (I even read "Ulysses," but don't ask me to explain it) and attempted some Ayn Rand ("Atlas Shrugged" but it merely made me shrug). I still like a good mystery or action novel and I have always loved American history biographies and books about the Civil War and World War II.
I don't read as much as I used to. I want to but my attention often wanders or I get sleepy. And sometimes after a day of reading I just don't want to look at any more words. But I still love it and hope it is not a dying art. Fewer books are being written and sold these days. Literature is an important part of any society. And I still think a book or newspaper in your hand is better and certainly more personal than reading a computer screen. But, then, I'm an old fuddy-duddy.
So, hurrah for the readers and the writers. Long may their bespectacled eyes shine.
