The outsider

by , under books and reading, family

As I’ve noted before, I’m the only one in my family who loves to read. Maybe that will change someday (I hope I hope I hope), but in the near future, not likely. But I was thinking about this the other day: my parents and my brother weren’t readers, either, except my dad with his magazines. So, where did I come from? And, how did I get here? How did I get this way? How did I become myself?

© All the parts of my life 2008-2015.

  1. Marie

    Good question. I’ve asked this about myself as well. My parents and siblings weren’t really into reading either. You could say I’m the “literary” one of the family. They just aren’t into that stuff.

    However, they are all college-educated and all encouraged me to read things along the way. For example, my mom suggested I read Little Women when I was 9; my sister Maureen recommended Catcher in the Rye when I was 12. But even before all of that, I clearly remember the first time I ever felt a special connection to literature was when I discovered Emily Dickinson’s poem “I’m Nobody, Who are you?” in my 7th grade literature textbook. That sparked my interest in reading more poetry. Then came a fortuitous stumbling upon an article on Sylvia Plath in an old World Book I had. I could relate to the whole depression thing, and even though her poems were beyond my full understanding at 12 years old, I still thought they were special… This was the same year I discovered Dickinson… And, as they say, the rest is history! 🙂

    I think we get “here” in the most mysterious ways. A mixture of nature and nurture, perhaps?

    (Sorry my comment is longer than your post! Hope you are doing well!)

  2. Marie

    Oh! I have to add, since we ARE librarians, I went to the library a lot as a child as well! If it wasn’t a place to borrow books from and read, it was a place where I hid often during school recess and lunch (Elementary, middle, AND high school! I was part loner/ part shy – still am!)

    This is where the “nature” part comes in. I found a special connection to books and the written word when it was too difficult to express my thoughts in other ways…

    OK, I’m done here! Thanks for the inadvertent therapy session. 😉


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