Menu Editor Lydia Rowell, 8 years old, holds up “Harry Potter: The Prisoner of Azkaban” in her bedroom in 2016. Rowell’s connection with reading faded as she grew older, but has meant equally as much to her as it did in her childhood. “I’ll never be able to read as much as I used to, not because I don’t like to read, but because I simply have more responsibilities now,” Rowell wrote. “Still, even if I can only manage a few pages each night, my friendship with books is forever.” Photo courtesy of Angela Hurt
Menu Editor Lydia Rowell reflects on the outlet reading has provided to her since childhood and how her relationship with books has fluctuated over time.
When some kids come up to their parent and tug on their sleeve, complaining about boredom, their parent will usually say, “Go read a book.”
That was something my parents never had to say to me. For as long as I can remember, reading has been a huge part of my life. Cracking open a novel is like turning off a light in my brain – all of the background noise ceases.
My earliest memories with books include me reading “Corduroy,” “Goodnight Moon” and “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” to my mother and father while tucked under my Dora the Explorer-themed bedspread in a Disney princess nightgown. In kindergarten, I was reading “The Magic Treehouse,” “I Survived” and “Rainbow Magic” books.
Elementary school book fairs were my personal Christmas. I would beg my parents for cash to buy the newest volume of a series while my peers were crowded around the invisible ink markers and fidget toys.
“For as long as I can remember, reading has been a huge part of my life. Cracking open a novel is like turning off a light in my brain – all of the background noise ceases.”
I had finished the Harry Potter series by the fourth grade, and it was then that I started stealing dystopian series books, such as “Gone,” “Divergent” and “The Hunger Games,” from my older brother’s bookshelf.
Menu Editor Lydia Rowell, 8 years old, reads “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” in her bedroom in 2016. As a child, Rowell spent the majority of her free time reading, but that free time was lost when she became a teenager. “When I got to high school, however, my strong tie with reading unraveled. My schedule, so abruptly flooded with sports and classwork and clubs, no longer allowed me to devote the time I once set aside for my stories,” Rowell wrote. Photo by Angela Hurt
By middle school, I was engrossed in the Young Adult section at Barnes & Noble, reading stories from authors like John Green, Holly Jackson and Mark Haddon. My friends couldn’t talk to me at school because I was always slumped over, determinedly reading and never coming up for air except to walk to my next class when the bell rang.
When I got to high school, however, my strong tie with reading unraveled. My schedule, so abruptly flooded with sports and classwork and clubs, no longer allowed me to devote the time I once set aside for my stories. I actually had to pay attention in class and could no longer block out lectures, face-deep in a book.
I’ve tried to combat this issue by surrounding myself more and more with books. I ask for titles on my wishlist for my birthday or special holidays. When I go to a thrift store, I always stroll through its book section so I can pick up affordable reading material.
I may not be able to read very much in the foreseeable future, not because I don’t like to read, but because I simply have more responsibilities. Still, even if I can only manage a few pages each night, my friendship with books is forever.
