At any given time, I have a book or three laying around the house, just waiting for me to re-engage my imagination within their pages. My Mom introduced me to reading when I was 9 or 10 years old. Prior to that I was something of a reluctant reader. Amazingly once I found books that were fun and interesting, my love of reading blossomed.
As a child, my mind was filled with dogs, horses and all manner of critters engaged in an adventure to capture my imagination. I don't think I could count the times I re-read all the Lassie, Big Red, Black Stallion and other similar series. My pre-teen years found me captivated by Trixie Belden, Nancy Drew, Cherry Ames and continuing with the animal saga's. Somewhere around 15 or so I discovered Stephen King, Peter Straub and I dabbled in such romance novelists such as Steel, Cartwright, and several other long forgotten authors. I also discovered James Herriot and other books along the same thread as his life and times as a country vet.
These days my book menu is as diversified as the neighborhood I live in. I have books on shelves and stashed in drawers all around the house of almost every flavor. I find it frustrating that my house does not have room for more book shelves so I can obtain more and more books.
The twins are well on their way to a long fulfilled life of reading. #3 has potential, but is still very easily distracted by every little thing. He still shows promise! I am also slowly converting Hubby. I don't forsee him picking up a book for fun until he graduates in a year, but after that I plan on thrusting something by Clancy in his hands and banishing him to the bathroom.