Alyssa Hill

Jackie Burr

English 1010

August 28, 2018

My Reading Habits

When I was young, I was content to spend hours with my nose in a book. I enjoyed the

smell of ink on the pages and paper beneath my skin. Often, the fantasy world I was reading

about seemed far more exciting than the one I was living in. I remember reading late into the

night and occasionally into the wee hours of the morning because I just had to find out how the

story ended. However, I didn’t get away with that for long. My parents approved of my avid

reading habits but they believed I needed sleep more. They would come into my room to turn off

the lights, leaving me begging for one more chapter. When the answer was no, I adapted. Many

nights were spent in the dark beneath the covers, with only a flashlight to guide my eyes to the

pages. I would eagerly soak up the words until I was too tired to comprehend the story.

For a few years, I even considered becoming an author myself. In Elementary school, I

wrote and illustrated short stories inspired by my favorite authors. From white printer paper,

staples, and a few worn down crayons, I created masterpieces. My family was highly supportive

of my love of writing. Each Sunday, I would bring my homemade stories to my grandparents’

house for my aunts and uncles to read. I even had one aunt who would buy them. Of course, she

never paid me more than a dollar for each one but it meant the world to me that someone cared

enough to buy my books. My love of reading fueled my love of writing.

 I had no trouble doing book reports and reading assignments for school. In elementary,

silent reading time was my favorite period of the day, and I always looked forward to

read-a-thons. My mother was constantly taking me to the library because I could easily get

through a 500 page novel within a few days.

As I got older, my love for reading never diminished. Unfortunately, my abundance of

time did. I had to decide what my priorities were once I became a teenager. The mental checklist

of things I needed to do grew longer every day. Eventually, reading fell to the bottom of that list.

Now, I consider myself lucky if I get the chance to read at all. Between getting good grades, a

part-time job, and a social life, there isn’t much time for books. I imagine that if I still had the

carefree life of an elementary school student, my nightstand would be piled to the ceiling with

books waiting to be read. Perhaps someday I will find the time to enlighten my imagination once

again.