My First Book

    I'd like to think that literary prowess runs in my blood: my mother is book editor and her mother reads two books a week to this day. However, for the first six years of my life I refused to accept the inevitable: that I would have to read.  I absolutely loved being read to but I just would not read.  Now my mother, as an editor, wasn't very thrilled with this to say the least, but what was even more concerning to her (and my father) was the fact that the school district wanted to put me in what she politely calls a remedial reading program, but what I call Special Ed. 

     Finally, at age six-and-a-half, her worries came to an end.  It was a saturday morning and I was at a family friend's Bar Mitzvah party.  Bored out of mind (I'm sure you can sympathize with me if you've ever been to one) I decided with my lone friend there to create a "fort" of sorts under one of the tables where people were eating.  My mother quickly found me out and as usual wasted no time in subtly placing several books by my side.  Like most other six and a half year olds I quickly grew bored of creating my "fort" and turned my attention to the books my mother had given me.  I discarded the first few until only one was left....The Magic Schoolbus.  Now The Magic Schoolbus isn't exactly a kindergarten level book but my mom hadn't placed it in the pile of books expecting that I'd read it but rather because she thought I'd be interested by its graphics.  Sure enough, they drew me in and soon I was wrapped up in the world of Ms. Frizzle and her adventurous ways.  Seconds, minutes, and nearly an hour passed.  Worried that I hadn't demanded more attention my mother stuck her head underneath the table and at once uttered a cry of disbelief.  I was reading out the Magic Schoolbus out loud!  

     To this day I don't remember what caused me to start reading that book.  It could have been my boredom because of the Bar Mitzvah, my interest in the pictures, or I could have finally realized that it was "time."  Regardless, from that moment on, literature has played a huge role in my life, providing me an imagination, a (semi-decent) vocabulary, something to do during those dreadfully long eight-hour car rides, and most of all, an escape.