Angelas Reading Story

My Reading Story

From as far back as I can remember my dad would read me a story every bed time, sending me off into worlds of fairies, magic, talking animals and mummies. My favourite of the bunch was Peter Pan, he was amazing! I did not care for Wendy though, she definitely was not worthy of Peters attention in my eyes – although I didn’t know it at the time this was obviously my first encounter with jealousy! Anyway, moving on from that embarrassing admission, my mother had bought me a fascinating book about the life and death of Tauten Carmon. It was full of pop out pictures and intricate Egyptian art work. My dad and I would spend each evening reading it through together and I was completely fascinated by ancient mummies and spooky curses. Until of course I started to have nightmares and therefore was no longer allowed to read the book after daylight hours.

The next book I recall owning was The Hungry caterpillar and instead of him reading to me before bed, I would read to him. This was one of the first books I had mastered and I was thoroughly proud of my achievement. Whenever we had guests I would tuck my book under my arm, sit them down and they would listen to my rendition of The Hungry Caterpillar. At least until my mum would tell me to “leave the poor woman alone and go and play outside”. So, reluctantly, I would.

Living in Brunei at the time I became fascinated with all the weird and wonderful (and often dangerous) creepy craw leys I would find about my house. I loved animals and as a family we had a whole array of pets from turtles and rabbits to dogs, chickens and fish (along with twiggy the stick insect which lived in a box in my room without the knowledge of my parents. Unfortunately twiggy passed away at an early age). I suddenly found myself inundated with books about rainforests, insects and dinosaurs, a collection I cherished. However as a child I would spend most of my time outdoors. I developed a love for sports, in particular gymnastics and rugby. When I was not at school, rather than reading I would spend most of my time at gymnastics, rugby or swimming. The times I was at home would often be spent riding my bike or playing on my neighbour’s trampoline. However my mother would dedicate one hour of each day to reading time. During this hour I would sit down with her and read through my school books, most of which I loved, such as Roald Dhal, The witches and The Poltergeist (the author of which I cannot remember).

There where no libraries in the town where I lived so many of my books I would order from the Book Worm Club at school. When we would travel back to England in the summer holidays, my dad would take me to the Local library situated in an old park house at Bantock Park, Wolverhampton. I found theses trips fascinating and would sit for hours flicking through all the books in the children’s section, perfectly content and quiet, which was a rarity.

I developed reading skills at a very early age and remember being able to read before starting junior school. Our visits to the library would always rekindle my love for stories; however we would always go back to Brunei where I would rediscover Rhino Beetles and fishing for tadpoles in the gutter. However, every year the rainy seasons would come and on occasions it would be too flooded for me to leave the house. During this time there where often power cuts, sometimes lasting for weeks at a time. Me and my parents would gather round read stories and play board games. It was during this time that I would also love to read. I would sit for hours on end revisiting all my old favourites. I hold a vivid memory of being eight ears old, there was a power cut and my father was reading me wind in the willows. I had caught chicken pox and became ill and feverish then had a nightmare that I was being chased by a giant, angry badger. We never finished the book.

Years later, I well recovered from this traumatic experience. At the age of ten or eleven we moved to Kuwait, where I discovered a whole new group of friends. There was nothing much to do in Kuwait, however instead of tending to my books, to my dads distaste, I discovered shopping and parties. We then moved on to Dubai and at around thirteen I entered my ‘too cool for school’ stage, would only read for educational purposes and I am sorry to say that even this was at a push.

It was not until I moved back to England at sixteen that I rediscovered reading for pleasure. I became hooked on the Dave Pelzer Biographies, a story of one mans struggle to overcome an abusive childhood. I also enjoyed reading stories such as Memoirs of a Geisha and Empress Orchid.

I studied Dance at College, a lot of which concentrated on research surrounding culture and philosophy, which I find fascinating. I have recently started practicing Capoeira and enjoy reading about the history behind this intriguing martial art.

I still live a very active lifestyle and train regularly. The difference now is that this has fed into my love of books rather than distracting me from them. I now cherish the times when I can sit for hours or days on end and escape into a world of literature. I am glad that recently this has not been so much of a rarity.

You're admission of your jealousy for Wendy from Peter Pan made me laugh and the nightmare after being read Wind in the Willows! Amanda

Haha! yep. i was a strange child!

Sounds amazing growing up where you did, did it feed into your imagination?