3 Reading Stories
Story #1: Nancy Drew
I was addicted to the Nancy Drew stories when I was in Grade school. It was my obsession to read all of the books in this collection. Not being able to afford to buy them, I would just wait for my aunt to give them to me as pasalubong from the US or I would borrow them from my 2nd cousin, Gelene, who had, it seemed to me then, all the titles listed in the back of every volume.
Not only did I want to read every Nancy Drew adventure ever published, I also wanted to read them as fast as I could every time I got hold of one. So that when I was in the middle of one and it was lights out time, I would continue reading under the kulambo using a flashlight.
DId I get to read all of the Nancy Drew books? Nah, adolescence got in the way. I was introduced to other reading fare. And they became my next obsession. (See Story #3)
Story #2: "Ghost Story"
My aunt who used to live with us before she moved to the US, had a collection of fiction that she kept on two shelves inside her bedroom. When I inherited the bedroom, I sort of inherited her books too. As I was still in grade school, the titles of her books didn't hold much attraction for me except for one entitled "Ghost Story." I don't remember the story now but what I will never forget is how I scared I was while reading the book. So engaged was I in the story that I actually covered myself with a thick blanket to protect me from the ghosts who might come for me! Oh, did I mention that it was the height of summer then? Brrrrrr!
Years later, when my aunt died, I also inherited her books on Psychiatry. Again, they are of limited use to me who is more into social rather than clinical psychology. But when I look at them in my office cabinet, I remember my aunt whom I loved so much, and I am assured that it is but right that her books are with me.
Story #3: "Mills and Boon"
It seemed like everyone in my high school class read these romance books. Some classmates went so far as to read them during class, risking the ire of teachers if it were discovered that behind the opened textbooks were the hard-to-put-down pocket books. And so not wanting to be left out, I joined the fun. Now, those stories led me into the world of poor, naive, lovely heroines initially ignored, but eventually wooed and won by strong, dashing men. I so identified with the ladies that I would be alternately shedding tears or swooning unashamedly while losing sleep (and study hours) over them. Hay, kilig!
I, of course, knew even at that age that these were just modernized fairy tales. The stuff that never happens in real life! But that didn't stop me from reading every volume I could borrow from a classmate, Chato, whose mother was a rabid consumer of these tomes. I think I only stopped reading them when it became embarrassing to be still hooked on Mills and Boon books at the ripe, old age of 16. (Much like when I quit bottle-feeding at age 5 because my Kindergarten classmates would have found me such a baby. But that's another story!)
Yes, I had entered college and it was time for more serious and sophisticated fiction and non-fiction. That would have been in keeping with what the intellectuals in my university would supposedly be reading. Unfortunately, the only things I managed to devote hours to during my college years were the prescribed textbooks and assigned class readings. Alas, only because of my English literature class did I manage to slip in a novel or two.
==== O ====
My obsession with books continue to this today. In shelves at my home, you'll find my collection of fiction books from when I was a child . The non-fiction books occupy shelves in my office. But under my bed is a box and a basket filled with books I have yet to read. Their topics range from the spiritual to the mundane. I have recipe books there along with self-help books and volumes of poetry. Magazines that will help me design and decorate my retirement home abound there too.
And speaking of retirement... guess what I plan to do then? Why, open and savor all those unread books under my bed, of course!
I was addicted to the Nancy Drew stories when I was in Grade school. It was my obsession to read all of the books in this collection. Not being able to afford to buy them, I would just wait for my aunt to give them to me as pasalubong from the US or I would borrow them from my 2nd cousin, Gelene, who had, it seemed to me then, all the titles listed in the back of every volume.
Not only did I want to read every Nancy Drew adventure ever published, I also wanted to read them as fast as I could every time I got hold of one. So that when I was in the middle of one and it was lights out time, I would continue reading under the kulambo using a flashlight.
DId I get to read all of the Nancy Drew books? Nah, adolescence got in the way. I was introduced to other reading fare. And they became my next obsession. (See Story #3)
Story #2: "Ghost Story"
My aunt who used to live with us before she moved to the US, had a collection of fiction that she kept on two shelves inside her bedroom. When I inherited the bedroom, I sort of inherited her books too. As I was still in grade school, the titles of her books didn't hold much attraction for me except for one entitled "Ghost Story." I don't remember the story now but what I will never forget is how I scared I was while reading the book. So engaged was I in the story that I actually covered myself with a thick blanket to protect me from the ghosts who might come for me! Oh, did I mention that it was the height of summer then? Brrrrrr!
Years later, when my aunt died, I also inherited her books on Psychiatry. Again, they are of limited use to me who is more into social rather than clinical psychology. But when I look at them in my office cabinet, I remember my aunt whom I loved so much, and I am assured that it is but right that her books are with me.
Story #3: "Mills and Boon"
It seemed like everyone in my high school class read these romance books. Some classmates went so far as to read them during class, risking the ire of teachers if it were discovered that behind the opened textbooks were the hard-to-put-down pocket books. And so not wanting to be left out, I joined the fun. Now, those stories led me into the world of poor, naive, lovely heroines initially ignored, but eventually wooed and won by strong, dashing men. I so identified with the ladies that I would be alternately shedding tears or swooning unashamedly while losing sleep (and study hours) over them. Hay, kilig!
I, of course, knew even at that age that these were just modernized fairy tales. The stuff that never happens in real life! But that didn't stop me from reading every volume I could borrow from a classmate, Chato, whose mother was a rabid consumer of these tomes. I think I only stopped reading them when it became embarrassing to be still hooked on Mills and Boon books at the ripe, old age of 16. (Much like when I quit bottle-feeding at age 5 because my Kindergarten classmates would have found me such a baby. But that's another story!)
Yes, I had entered college and it was time for more serious and sophisticated fiction and non-fiction. That would have been in keeping with what the intellectuals in my university would supposedly be reading. Unfortunately, the only things I managed to devote hours to during my college years were the prescribed textbooks and assigned class readings. Alas, only because of my English literature class did I manage to slip in a novel or two.
==== O ====
My obsession with books continue to this today. In shelves at my home, you'll find my collection of fiction books from when I was a child . The non-fiction books occupy shelves in my office. But under my bed is a box and a basket filled with books I have yet to read. Their topics range from the spiritual to the mundane. I have recipe books there along with self-help books and volumes of poetry. Magazines that will help me design and decorate my retirement home abound there too.
And speaking of retirement... guess what I plan to do then? Why, open and savor all those unread books under my bed, of course!
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