Quote:
Originally Posted by cln1812
I'd have to say books. I loved them even before I could read and especially once I could. They took me away from the awful things going on in my life that I couldn't control. I was so proud and happy the day my grandmother took me to get my first library card.
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Queer story.
I’m a San Diego/La Jolla native. Dad was stationed (sort of) there.
When I was five he came home with a dusty WWII Navy ‘footlocker’ (of sorts). It was packed with science-fiction books... double-sided so that you read one book, flipped it over, and there was another.
I don’t remember
not having books around, read to me as I read them along and back. But I was intrigued by the fantastic colorful covers of the musty 1940’s paperbacks.
Those were my primers. My dad let me use his adult library card when I was six as I’d outgrown the children’s section. I never stopped reading (even when I stopped speaking I continued to read).
My two bookshelves are over-stuffed and I buy eBooks now. I usually have one novel and one nonfiction book going. I adore the postmodernist novelists and I’ll read any nonfiction.
I went out with a girl as an undergrad and when we entered my house, she looked around and asked, “what do you do with all of these books?”
“Read them. I read these books.”