Monday, November 28, 2011

In My Diary(1)

Confessions of a Writer   

   My love for writing came from my passion for reading. I grew
up in a small town in the middle of nowhere and there wasn't
much to do. Once I discovered I could ride my bike wherever I
wanted I had all the freedom in the world. I used this freedom to
go to the library at least once a week. I rode my squeaky blue
bike down the sidewalks until 15 minutes later I made it to the
library. It was my favorite thing to do especially during summer
vacation when the days would drag on slowly.
 
   I would search the young adult section of the library for hours
trying to find the next great book. Living in a small town has its
disadvantages. The section for young adults in my hometown
library was tiny and confined to the back corner. There wasn't
much to chose from but I always found something worth reading.
There were some advantages too. Living in a small town meant
that there weren't many people at the library. I usually had the
section all to myself and would be left alone for hours.
 
   My favorite thing to find was great series. That way I had quiet
a few books to read for a long time. I would scour the section
for hours reading excerpts and beginning chapters of books. It
wasn't an easy task finding a great book. Once I found a stack
of them I would carry the heavy load up to the check out desk.
With a bag in hand I hopped back on my bike and rode to my
house trying to stay balanced from the weight of the books. My
bike squeaking as it went.
 
   Finally making my way home I would snuggle into a spot on the
couch and read for hours devouring book after book. Sometimes
I read so quickly that I went back to the library only after a few
days. I was hooked and couldn't stop reading. The greats like
R.L. Stine and AVI were all I needed.

What are your earliest memories of reading?
Why are you hooked on YA fiction?

Sincerely,
R.J. Ropsen

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