I was planning to post about heavy stuff... and maybe that's why I haven't posted in such a long time! So... let's leave the heavy stuff for another day (or hey - maybe never!) and talk about something exciting instead.
I seem to have re-discovered my reading mojo!
I'm pretty sure that doesn't sound like a big deal to most of you - but let me explain. Books are my THING! And yes, that needed shouty caps. I'm dyslexic. I struggled with reading when I was little - but as I didn't get any extra support as a kid, I developed work-arounds - as you do when you struggle for long enough with something that is deemed important by the big bad adults who run your life (otherwise known as loving, supporting parents!)
The book that got me into reading was The Sheep-Pig by Dick King-Smith - some of you might know it as the film Babe. Either way, the story of that polite little pig was the one that captured my imagination enough to help me struggle through the shifting symbols until they became words... and then the words became stories. I was hooked!
From then on, I always had my nose in a book. I think my parents rued the day they encouraged me... because my chores on the farm took a decided back seat to hanging out with Enid Blyton, Roald Dahl and basically any other author I could get my clammy little hands on. I still hated school reading - whoever thought reading out loud in front of your whole class is a good way to learn to read when you're dyslexic has a lot to answer for. But still - itt didn't stop my love-affair with books from developing.
The friendship turned to love, and the love quickly developed into a long-term relationship. We were going steady. Books moved in with me. I became a writer... and my life was all about words.
But around late 2018 our love-affair hit a decided bump. I was all worded out... and suddenly I couldn't read an entire book if my life depended on it. It was like a limb was suddenly missing. I ached for my constant bookish companions - after all, we'd gone everywhere together since I was about 6 years old... and let's not even talk about what it means to be a writer who can't read a book!!
Luckily, this story has a happy ending.
I thought I'd lost my reading superpower there for a bit, but no... it was just having a break, putting its feet up and waiting for me to rediscover it. We're now living our very own second-chance-romance.
Last week, I picked up a book again. Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell. I've read it before, back when it came out in 2013 - and it's certainly stood the test of time!
It's a coming of age story about socially-awkward twin - Cath - during her first year of uni. It explores her relationship (obsession) with words, reading and writing - and much of it rang true for me at 40 - even though Cath is right at the start of her wordy journey at 18.
Have you read Fangirl? It's a relatively gentle book, full of teen anxt, first love, and being a super-fan of a fictional world. Now it'll forever hold a special place in my heart - just like The Sheep-Pig - because it's the book that helped me reconnect with my first love - reading.
