Personal Narrative- My Love of Reading and Writing
Reading and writing has always played a vital part in my life. From toddler to adult, pre-elementary to college, I’ve managed to sharpen both skills to my liking. However, even though it significantly helped, schooling was not what influenced me to continue developing those skills into talent. Many different things shaped and influenced my learning, and now reading and writing have become the safety net of my life. I know that even if I have nothing else in the future, I’ll still have my talent and knowledge. To ensure my success, I hope to further develop those skills so that I may fulfill my wishes.
I was always a creative child; it was something I just could not not be. Back then I didn’t know how to be ‘normal.’ While the other children wrote their essays about their mothers and pets or their best friends, I wrote about becoming birds or about ducks building robots. Truly. I suppose I could blame it on my parents – my father for trying to teach me how to read when I was too young and my mother for reading The Hobbit by JRR Tolkein to me as my bedtime story – but I know, truthfully, that it wasn’t their fault. It is no one’s fault, for I do not see my strange imagination as a terrible, abnormal thing. I do know that no one in particular influenced my creativity when I was younger, but I remember being obsessive about certain stories. I remember when I got my first computer – a 16-color piece of, well, garbage that barely ran. But even though it was so old and primitive, it opened new doors for my imagination, and I spent my childhood either playing games about knights and dragons or running around outside and acting out my own unscripted scenarios. However, something was missing from my life, and even then I could feel it.
When I got a little too old to play outside, I began reading. Reading was the new outlet for my imagination and the stories I read fascinated me. They weren’t too unlike the scripts of computer games or the own stories I came up with on my own, but books actually had the action and emotional aspects written out. And again, while my peers were reading things about growing up, things that had morals and would teach valuable lessons (I remember one book about a shoplifter who had to do community service at an animal shelter), I read real fiction: Jurassic Park, Dragonriders of Pern, Lord of the Rings… Stuff of fantasy and science-fiction that let my mind stray from reality. Stuff that kept my imagination alive while I was being forced to learn multiplication and the names of countries. Of course, my teachers encouraged me to keep reading, as long as I wasn’t doing the reading in the middle of their lectures. But it wasn’t because of their influence, however, that kept me interested in books. It was because I loved it. It put pictures into my head and made me think. So I kept reading. But even then I knew reading wasn’t enough…...