You couldn’t tear me away from my book with 100 pounds of dynamite. However, that didn’t use to be the case. When I was little, I wouldn’t read a book for more than a few pages at a time. I’ve never had a hard time sitting still, or concentrating on one thing for a long period of time, I’ve always been great at those things. I just couldn’t get into books. It wasn’t just those silly, simple “a fat cat sat on the mat, the end” type books I wasn’t a fan of, it was every book. Even in forth and fifth grade I just wasn’t interested in books. I tried and tried to love books, just like everyone else I knew, I just couldn’t.

Then, one summer my opinion of books changed. It was July 2011, and I was on my way to California. On the 25th my grandma was turning 75, and our whole family was throwing a big party in San Fransico. My mom and I were taking the train down. Yes, there was occasionally some pretty scenery, but I wasn’t going to stare out a window for 18 hours. So I grabbed my 240 page book, Magic Under Glass, that I had been trying to read for 5 months, opened it up to chapter 3, and started reading.

That was that, by chapter 4 I was mesmerized. I’ve never been a very fast reader, but it seemed like I sped through that book. The remaining hours on the train seemed like minutes. When I finally had to put the book down I was very disappointed.

That week I was very busy, but I tried to squeeze a word in every now and then. Every time I did, I was transported into another world.

One day, I was suppose to meet the rest of my family in the hotel lobby, but I couldn’t pull myself away from that world. So I made a compromise. I navigated the hotel with my head in a book. I literally crashed into the wall twice, and I almost trampled into a maid cart. When I finally got down to the lobby I was in the middle of the most exiting part. My mom told me to look up. So I briefly glanced up, saw a limo with my uncle’s face poking out the window, then I went back to Magic Under Glass. Once I finished the chapter, full recognition set in, I was going sight seeing in a limo. I had a fun time, but I was itching to get back to my book. Less then a week later, I stayed up until 3 in the morning finishing another book.

Ever since then I have been completely smitten with books. Even when I occasionally come across a book that doesn’t light that same spark in me, I don’t give up on books. The next one I read reminds me how much I love books. They’re much more than just stories, or words on a page. They’re the love of my life, and I’m never letting go.