books · Diary entry

Book Memories, #1

Here’s my take on Book Memories.

Some of you may regonize what a Book memory is after I explained myself.

Maybe you will even remember one of yours.

A book memeory is, according to me and maybe only to me, a memory of a book or a memory of reading something which has in someway influenced me into the way I think and see the world. Or maybe pushed me to test myself.

We all have some memory of a book we once read. But we also may remember a certain paragraph in an unknown book we once read and never bloody remember the title of. Goddesse believe me I have tons of those.

Here is one of mine to share with the world.

The first book I remember is an unknown book, which means I no longer remember it’s title. Either way this book may have spurred me into actually start reading.

This was when I was very young and was subscribing to a bookclub about horses. This subscription sent you one or two new books every other month home with the post and always about horses in one way or another. However I couldn’t read the books because they were, according to me then, a bloody bore. This may have been because I hated reading for the books at school. They were all so about the simplest thing and I never found them exiting.

Either way I was growing restless that I had all these stories. Books about girls on horses, going somewhere like at a camp or finding thiefs or murderers with their trusted horse. And I wasn’t privy to know what were happening in those stories.

This book memory is about when I tried to rope my mother in. I wanted her to read me a bedtime story out of one of my books. I most likely guilt tripped her into doing it. Most probably by mentioning that I had been not getting as many bedtime stories as I most definitely was sure I was due. Mom agreed and so we set of to read one of my books.

Short story. Mom tried and I feel asleep before we got anywhere with the story. After that I felt the distinct need to read what I had wanted to read for so long and so I started with the horse books in my room. And I was off.

Really when I now think about it the frustration that I wanted to know the story but the annoyance that my mother couldn’t deliver it for me may have prompted me to start reading or maybe I was just bored of reading the same stupid books we had in the classroom every time. Soon after that I remembered that I was looking for more and more of my own kind of books and stories. With adventure and funny happenings.

Funny thing with this memory is I only remember the start of the book but never the rest of the story. It was a horse book, with a gang of girls at a camp, trying to popcorn and a goat eating some things. Maybe my main frustration was about the fact I couldn’t understand why there was a goat in the story with gang of girls trying to pop popcorn. And now as a grownup that’s all I remember of that story.

Well the mind is a funny place.

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