Mirrors, Windows, & Wizard Rock

There's a photo of me at three years old, sitting in a child-sized chair and reading. Every time someone sees this photo and comments that it's cute how I'm pretending to read, my mother corrects him or her.

"Oh no," she insists, "Draya actually was reading at three. She would read aloud from books she's never seen or heard before; it's impossible that she had them memorized."

I'm inclined to believe this because A. I tend to think I'm a total genius, and B. I don't remember learning how to read, but I know I went into Kindergarten reading fluently. In first grade, I tested at a fifth grade reading level, and in fifth grade I tested above 12th grade. I was given free reign of the library, which was actually sort of dangerous, as it led to me reading Judy Blume's Forever at age 10. Oh, Ralph. This sounds braggy, but I suck at most other things, so it all evens out.

As a child, my favorite books were your basic 80s-90s classics. The Babysitter's Club, The Boxcar Children, Nancy Drew, Super Fudge (a slightly more age-appropriate Blume)... these books gave me a world outside the sheltered Kansas farm life I led. I loved texts where children had responsibilities and adventures. I was a sucker for a witty protagonist. But mostly, I craved that escape. By elementary school, my parents no longer read to me, but I didn't mind. I would read before school while waiting on our morning bus, sitting on the cold linoleum in my family's kitchen near a heat vent and under a blanket at 6 in the morning. I would read on the bus - knees propped up on the seat in front of me - under my desk at school, and in bed at night.  I read to my little sisters constantly, and at my wedding my youngest sister hit me right in the heart by tearfully thanking me for teaching her how to read. 

By the time I hit high school, I had discovered chick lit. Sarah Dessen and the like gave me unrealistic expectations about high school relationships, summer flings, and what happens in cars after prom. I consider myself lucky to have grown up alongside what is still my favorite series of all time: Harry Potter. I was the quintessential HP kid. I read the third book eight times while waiting on the fourth one, I went to the midnight releases, and I even got into "wizard rock" (Harry & the Potters, Draco & the Malfoys...truly terrible bands). In my classes we read the basics: Gatsby, Macbeth, Animal Farm, and I enjoyed getting graded on reading. I took a contemporary lit class where we read No Language but a Cry and I remember absolutely sobbing when we got to the end and the rest of the class just staring at me. Tangent: I truly believe reading has taught me empathy in ways I would have never received otherwise. Similarly, a respect, love, and even craving for diversity.

In high school I also discovered one of my favorite relaxation techniques: reading in the bath. To this day, my husband knows that I need my 20 minutes of reading in the bath time after work before I can converse like an actual human.

As an adult, I have a to-be-read list that is inconceivable.  The books I have "on deck" are under my coffee table, and at this point they're spilling out onto the floor.

proof of this

My to-be-read list is a mix of classics I've never gotten around to, books recommended by friends, Goodreads, The New York Times, and random covers that caught my eye. According to Goodreads, I have 193 books on my to-be-read list currently. 

I am great friends with our high school librarian and she has a new pile of books for me nearly every week. We will go through her newly bought books and each read half before putting them on the shelves. Lately, I've been craving contemporary adult books because after a while the young adult genre gets old, but I always come back. Young adult books are just brimming with optimism and promise in ways that adult literature is often lacking. Some of my favorite books I've read in the last five years include

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo series by Stieg Larsson
Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn (I preferred this one of her three)
Little Wolves by Thomas Maltman
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

I use Goodreads to track the books I'm reading. I have my 2015 challenge at 100 books.  Last year I read 51, so this is quite a jump, but I'm confident I'll be able to read more after May once I've graduated.  Plus, my husband and I are moving to New Orleans this summer and I'm sure I'll read quite a bit since I won't know anyone. 

I'm reading The Dinner by Herman Koch currently. I just finished Playing with Matches (hated it) and Yes Please (loved it). In class I'm about to read a bunch of modern British literature, which isn't my favorite.  I'm excited to expand my literary horizons and gain appreciation for a genre outside my comfort zone. 

But even when I don't enjoy the works we read in my college classes, I still go home and escape from those books into a book of my choice.  As I tell my students, all the books we read are either mirrors or windows.  The mirrors reflect our own experiences.  This is great because we don't feel so alone when we read about people like us.  The mirrors comfort us.  The windows give us insight into the experiences of others.  This is also great because we gain empathy, understanding, and knowledge of things and people we might not otherwise know about.  The windows stretch us.

Mirrors and windows have completely shaped my life so far.  I once calculated that I would have to read 180 books a year to have read 10,000 books by the time I die (assuming I live an average age).  Ten thousand doesn't seem like nearly enough.  At least I got an early start.

circa 1991