Apologies for waiting 12 days to actually write something here. Did you have nice new years? I almost slipped on ice, but then I ate Doritos so it was alright.
I’m here to talk about a little think I wrote for the Indiependent.
If you’re familiar with the site (if not go look alright), you will know that they have weekly features, one of those features is”My Life In Books.” My contribution to that went up a few days ago.
Reading has been a big part of my life since I was small. I still remember reading out loud for 10 minutes before school, and then before bed. A routine. This would lead to my tenth year where I would ask for a library card, the school library no longer satisfying my reading needs. The competition to be the child to review the most amount of books in the school year was also a catalyst. Between the age of 10 and 12, every Monday my mother and I would walk to the library and I would be able to chose a world where I would be able to live for the next few days. Somehow reading became almost as necessary as oxygen, a love that would direct my educational path and career choice.