My reading story

My reading story


One of my earliest memories is the poem Christopher Robins Vesper, (adapted to fit my name in of course) which Mum and I would sing every night before I went to sleep. I know that she used to read me lots of stories and poems when I was very young, but this is the one that really stuck in my mind. I especially remember the reference to forgetting to Bless Daddy, at which we both used to giggle – poor dad!

I was often read to and with throughout my childhood. I remember that whenever my Nanny read with me, she put on a strange posh accent that made me laugh. When we stayed with her in Barry, I would spend hours pawing over my Mum’s old Tiny Tots Annuals, which despite being typically of the 50´s and sporadically racist, contained such a wonderful combination of stories, cartoons and pictures. My favourite was the story of Snowdrop the ice skater and her cruel, cheating Russian opponent, clearly politically driven for the time it was written, but as a little girl I saw none of that and I loved it!

When I was about 7, my parents read The Hobbit to my brother Tom and I. This was the first big book I had ever read and I remember being enchanted by the characters and settings and spent time afterwards drawing pictures of the Shire. As children we would often read together, however our tastes deviated quite quickly and it was normally a diplomatic struggle reaching any agreement.

Every Thursday I used to go to tap dancing lessons and would always meet Mum and Tom in a café by the library afterwards. I remember being allowed a book each week and it was always an agonising choice. When I had finally chosen (Motto of the time: if in doubt choose Roald Dahl) we would sit reading our books in the café, Mum drinking a coffee while Tom and I smuggled sugar cubes in our mouths.

Both my parents are excellent storytellers. My Dad always told stories with clear morals such as adaptations of Watership Down and Robert the Bruce, the latter of which has remained his catch phrase throughout my life! Whenever he thinks that Tom and I are giving up on something he will merely repeat the letters R T B to remind us! This has and still is normally met with the groans of embarrassed or annoyed teenage children to an irritating father.

My Mum’s stories were always ghost stories based around legends and historical events. Whenever we went on long car journey’s we would beg her to tell us the story of the Marie Celeste or others like it. From these stories I gained an interest in mysteries and loved reading the Famous Five, Nancy Drew and the Goosebumps series. I particularly remembering pretending to be sick and hiding in the wardrobe so that I could stay home from school to finish a Nancy Drew mystery. It was during this time that I also started reading non-fiction books about crime and mystery, most of which I am too scared to read now!

Then at about the age of 12, I found music and books took a back seat to No Doubt, Oasis and many others which are far too embarrassing to mention! I started reading magazines filled with posters of Peter Andre and broke my parents hearts, regularly rejecting any book they put in front of me.

I must have continued to read at school, but nothing really sticks in my mind, I remember finding my English GCSE rather uninspiring, although I did enjoy the creative writing side. There must have been something there however, as I did chose to do English A-level and this is where I really became inspired by and interested in English again. During my A-level, I was introduced to such wide variety of literature from Salman Rushdie, Midnight´s Children to Toni Morrison, Beloved. Some of the books I loved and others I hated (and characteristically always let my teachers know!) However, my eyes had been opened and I read greedily.

At this point, my parents stepped back in with useful suggestions such as The Handmaid’s Tale, Middlemarch and On the Beach by Neville Shute. In addition to their suggestions I still have free range to raid their bookshelves, which are always refilling. My parents and I often discuss books and they still influence what I read.

Did you get the word sporadically from Clueless too? Yes The Handmaid's Tale is definitely a strangely good book!

I have to say that some of my favourite conversations with my parents involved talking about books that we've read. However, one of my mother's recent suggestions was Arthur & George (can't remember the author now) which I finally rejected (after struggling through the first 100 pages) in favour of a biography of a Spitfire Pilot (possibly influenced by my father).