My 14-year-old daughter is a big Twilight book series fan. She's read, and loved, all four books, especially the first and last. I decided to read Twilight, to see what the big deal is. The biggest deal of all--aside from the fact that I'm enjoying the book, and it's intriguing--is that my daughter is SO excited that I'm reading it, so she can talk about it with me, and share it with me. This may seem like a minor thing, but it's not. I read in bed, and Emma comes in the bedroom every 10 minutes to see where I am and to see if I'm enjoying it. It's very special.
When she and her brother were little, I read to them a lot, and my husband read to them even more. All four of us love to read. If you like to read, you're never lonely, you're never bored, if a flight is delayed it's an okay thing: hey, more time to sit and read.
I'm really happy my daughter has read all the Harry Potter books, and the Twilight series, and tons of other books. I hope that love will continue forever. It certainly has in me.
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I loved books growing up ... still do. But it's been a while since I was so completely transported by a good book. I'm in "nibble" mode for the last several months and really can't remember the last novel I read. Which one it was.
When I was in 6th Grade, our teacher (whose name escapes me at the moment) began to read to us from "James and the Giant Peach" when we returned from our lunch activities. It was a great way to settle us into the room again.
The summer arrived just before the book ended. She planned it that way, of course, and when we protested that we hadn't heard the end of the story yet, she recommended that we get the book and finish it ourselves. Perfect.
Oh, Holly, and your 14-year old? That's magic.
-AV-
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