The First Book.

As a kid, I used to have a lot of trouble with reading. Ironically, I read every day and have plans of becoming a writer. Through workshops and extra classes, reading began to make sense to me. I can’t really pinpoint what exactly was the first book I ever laid my hands on, but I can instantly spit out the book that first touched me.  I remember being instantly attracted, drawn in by the cover.  It was simple, dark blue, a green stick figure, and a yellow star; yet for some reason it almost jumped off the shelf. I picked it up, remembering the smooth texture, and began reading it before I was out of the school library doors. Stargirl by Jerry Spinellie, was the first book that made me want to read many more. The words danced across my mind and it took me to a faraway place. I felt the emotion of the kids in the stories, I felt the love, and I felt the friendship. My favorite memory of this book was indeed the main character herself, Stargirl. She was weird and fun, and didn’t fit in. She spoke what she felt and she dressed unlike any other. She got a boy to fall in love with her, and more importantly it made you think hard about your own friends, life, and actions. This book gave me hope, not only in my life at the time, but also the hope for my advancement in reading. It was the first time I read something that made me think and reflect upon my own life. I became addicted to knowing more, reading more, and thinking more. From the day I picked up that book I haven’t been able to put one down.

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