Why I like scary books...and other Musing Mondays

Today’s MUSING MONDAYS post, from Just One More Page is about early reading…
Do you remember how you developed a love for reading? Was it from a particular person, or person(s)? Do you remember any books that you read, or were read to you, as a young child?

I think, most certainly, I have my mother to thanks for my love of reading. That and heredity. My father was not a reader, except for the newspaper, as far as I remember. But my mother..oh yes, she was a reader and all her family seem to have been readers. She bought books, always paperbacks as I remember, but her real source for reading material was the Newark NJ Public Library system.

I have written before about my very fond memories of the library and our local branch in particular. Some of my earliest memories are trotting off there, my mom holding wee caite’s hand and a tote bag of some sort in her other hand to carry home her loot. She would get a bunch at one time, maybe 8 or 10, assuming some would be duds, as she said. That would last her about a week or two. Obviously, she was a faster reader than I am. She didn't teach me that part...

And I have written about climbing upstairs to the 2nd floor of that branch of the library, where the children’s section was, happily amusing myself, looking around, choosing a few to check out, until my mother was done downstairs. And oh, the very special day when I was old enough to get my very own library card…

I don’t remember learning to read, per se, and certainly never having to be encouraged to read. I just did. There were books around, everyone I knew read. I just never understood why people, my fellow students, co-workers, would say they didn't like to read. Really, some people don't like it? What did I read? Well, I am not sure. I seem to have missed reading most of the typical kids books, the children series and such. But I was always reading something!

Did I learn by my mother reading to me? I am not sure, but I think I could read, certainly before I went to kindergarten. I do remember my mother reading to me, usually at bedtime. I am sure she read me any number of books, but I clearly remember on particular book, a book of rather scary fairy tales that was my favorite. It had a bluish grey cloth cover as I remember…I wonder if that is true…and it was illustrated. My favorite story, that I would have he read me over and over was the Tale of The Headless Horseman. Maybe that is why I still count Dean Koontz as one of my favorite writers.

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