Books, books, books

Ok, so, Joshilyn blogged yesterday about someone who wants to be a writer, but never ever reads books. (He's afraid it'll screw up his "voice".)

I have never understood people who don't read. I can remember back in high school having a friend tell me that she'd never read a book and I didn't know whether or not to believe it. I was shocked and aghast at the mere idea that someone could be our age and never have read a book. How can you avoid that? Not even a short one? A small one? A picture book?

Nope. Never. Not even a picture book.

I can't quite wrap my mind around that. Not reading would be, to me, like not breathing. I read my first book in the first grade when I learned to read. It's been my favorite form of entertainment ever since.

The best summer I ever had as a kid was the year we lived within walking distance of the local branch of the public library. I was allowed to walk to the library almost every day. I'd walk out of the heat into that delicious air conditioning and draw in a deep breath of book-scented air. And then I'd settle in for some serious reading. Some days I'd just check out a pile of books (we were only allowed to check out six at a time) take them home, read them and return them the next day to check out another pile. Some days I'd just pile up books around me and stay as long as I dared reading everything from the Moomintrolls books to the dusty old encyclopedias. They had a complete set of the Oz books, the first chance I'd had to read books I'd only ever heard about before then. I finally found out who the Hungry Tiger was, and Ozma, Tik-Tok, Jack Pumpkinhead and many others.

It was a wonderful summer, one that left a mark on me that persists to this day.

I have no idea how many books I've read over the years, but I'll bet it's in the thousands. And there are so many more books out there that I haven't read, so many that I'll never get a chance to read. Which is rather comforting, because that means I'll never run out of reading material. Yippee!

I can't help wondering why someone would want to be a writer, if they don't like to read? I started wanting to be a writer when I was six, when I first realized that I couldn't find the books I wanted to read. So I decided I would write those books when I grew up (a few years later it occurred to me that I didn't have to wait - I could write them when I was still a kid!) and then I could read them and always have the kind of books I wanted to read. And I could share them with other kids who liked those kind of books, too! Yay!

But, if you don't read? Why would you want to write? It's hard work, with little payoff and lots of insecurity. It's no way to get rich, in fact, if you can even support yourself you're doing pretty well. So ... why? I don't get it.