My take on the bookish childhood prompt from book-blogger Bookgirl1987:
- My mom tells me that I came home frustrated and upset from Kindergarten after the first week because “I’ve been going to kindergarten for a whole week and I STILL can’t read!”
- Elementary school daycare – they were always trying to get us to go outside. I would hide in a shady spot under the play-set reading Harry Potter or some version of Eragon. My poor care-givers (as I called them) would have to come and get me because I never heard them calling.
- I read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone because my daycare had a Harry Potter trivia board-game based on the BOOK. So I had to read the book to beat my friend at this silly game. It changed my life.
- My parents used to read to me (bless them), but soon enough I preferred to read to them. But after they had left the room, I would continue reading our book on my own, so they would always miss those chunks. It drove my mom bonkers. I also couldn’t read books that would give my mom nightmares (ahem… The Series of Unfortunate Events)
- I identified with A Little Princess on a deep deep deep level. I, too, thought my dolls came to life when I wasn’t looking. And, silly though it sounds to me now, I considered my imagination to be a real and true friend.