Monday, August 9, 2010

A Book, A Piece of my Heart

I hate it when people say that books are a dying media. I won't ever want an electronic reading device, now matter how stylish, how convenient or how futuristic it might be. It's not the same as far as I'm concerned.

I have loved reading books as long as I can remember. The rectangular shape, with those perfectly cut pages inside. They have tiny letters that form a fantasy, a dream, memories, instructions, adventure, love or history sometimes all in one book. In third grade my favorite part of the day was the fifteen minutes of "sustained silent reading" which was required but I saw it as a gift. I'm pretty sure my teacher Mrs. Dunkle loved it too. I cherish books as apart of my anatomy. I don't like to see them ripped, hurt, on the floor or still looking like new, as if it has never been read. I like the flexibility of the cover, the perfect spine and the smell of the pages. I like to see my bookmark travel through the pages bearing the weight of what I've read, like a friend encouraging me to test his strength but then allow him to rest.

Being at home all day, with very few mental stimuli, reading helps keep my mind thinking. Although I love singing songs with hand motions, reading picture books and teaching the alphabet, I often wonder if my brain will turn to mush. The only problem solving I have during the day is thinking what to make for lunch (something they'll actually finish), teaching how to share and figuring out how to stop a crying kid. When I read it's usually past ten o'clock. I curl up on the couch, take off my glasses, open up the book and nothing else matters.

My favorite kinds of books have a great hero, some combat, blood, gore, maybe a love interest but it's not necessary. I despise books with super fluffy happy go lucky ending (Breaking Dawn). Fiction writers should not be afraid of death. It's okay to mourn the loss of a character, even if it is the hero. The readers will mourn too. In writing my own piece, I have to keep in mind who I'm writing this for - ME. I can't please everybody and I don't want to. A lot of people will hate it, others who say they love it because they're friends/family and maybe one rare person who will honestly tell me what they think; red pen and all. My English teacher, Mrs. Lewis was such a gem. She would make my book reports bleed and I was sure she was out to get me. Every week we would turn in our "reflection journals" and she would grade them. How do you grade a reflection - using the rubric system. Lame. Seeing that she would give me her honest opinion about my work, I turned in my poetry journal instead. When I got it back I saw the note that said,"See me after class." The next two years, I went to creative writing workshops at the Scottsdale Center for the Arts, during school hours, under her direction. I would trust her opinion about anything I write. I wish I stayed in contact with her.

Books are such a huge part of my life, they have helped make me who I am, libraries are sanctuaries, and the right side of the couch at 10:45 pm is my best friend. The title is true, "A Book, A Piece of my Heart."


  1. I think you're an awesome writer! I wish I could put my thoughts into words like you can. I'm not just saying it to be nice and I totally agree with you about breaking dawn. Somebody should have died.

  2. Thanks for the compliment! Yeah, Stephenie Meyer really let me down on that one, no fighting, no death, just blah blah blah I love everybody.