Write about a story that you loved as a kid.
Alright, awfully disjointed but here you go.
My favorite book as a child… I don’t really quite remember as a kid. I remember a few Dr. Seuss books, but I don’t remember much else. We would all watch movies more often than anything else. That was our family bonding activity, especially when dad was home. I remember my mother reading a few times, but I don’t think she would act out the voices. I don’t ever remember my dad reading to me when I was a child. He was quite busy fairly often enough.
I would hardly ever read from my own volition. I guess I just wasn’t that into it. I remember being forced to read when I was little for classes, which I never did because I felt like it was too slow, that I was too slow. And it would take forever for the images to show in my head. It wasn’t as quick as a movie was… nor so laid out in front of me. Plus, there was an element of connection, I guess, between seeing the people talking and walking and interacting with sound that lured me more than the silent affair of reading. Of course, now I’m paying for that especially when I want to become a writer with the ultimate goal of publishing those eight works. The one thing that constantly stops me and stalls me is that I am not good enough of a writer to even think about that being published. But what else am I supposed to do with this idea in my head that is scratching at the cages in my mind to get out? I don’t know if I can give it justice now with my own limited skill. I have an active imagination: I just don’t know how to hone it and make it an art. A majority of my writings I feel are subpar at best because I have all of the raw materials, but I need a way to polish it and make it the great tapestry that it deserves to be instead of the lump of coal that it currently is.
Back to business… When I read to kids, I do the voices. I act it out mostly because it keeps their attention and it’s entertaining for me as well. But whenever I am reading silently, I find it difficult to get into it, to truly imagine it. It’s an odd wonder, really. I have such an active imagination, yet when I read, I have no voices or much of a look to the characters. Perhaps it’s because I don’t want to be wrong. This whole fear of being wrong. What a pile of muck this is. But the book that I most remember in all of my life were honestly the harry potter series. Not going to lie. I think it was because everyone else was reading them at the time, and I wanted to feel included with my friends, so I did too. It was a great series, no doubt. But I would remain either in my room or in the study to read that or the living room if it was quiet. But my own favorite was when we were driving some place. It was almost like magic when I would look up and see a different locale, or something to think about within the writing itself.