How Do I Feel When I Read a Memoir?

Reading Memoir

I identify with being a dormant reader. This is because of my absolute hatred towards being told what to do. Something that I’ve stuck with my 12 years of living. I remember being told to read in front of my dad every afternoon before starting my homework. He claimed that it was a, good habit that I should obtain my entire life. Of course it seems like I good move for a parent, but oh, how that affected me.

I was sick of being treated like I a kid who couldnt walk, talk and do things on my own just because of the number of candles on my birthday cake. Reading has never been a strong subject for me, but I find that I like the book that I choose.

When I discovered books involving crime, I feel hard for the books. No other type of book would amuse me. And that bothered me- greatly. But here again with the youre too young to reading these types of books,….

.and are you sure you dont just want to read Bad Kitty. As if I wanted to read something that had nothing to do with the real world. I was only six at the time, but I wanted to grow up and know what it feels like to suffer.

Even if that isnt the best thing, I wanted to be in my twenties and pay for what I wanted. Truth be said, I still dont know what I want. It felt like getting hit by a wrecking ball, not being able to do as I pleased.

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I felt this was my crack in the road. I got discouraged as I read aloud to the class, showing that I wasnt as smart as I appeared to be (pretended to be).

I would read in the nights when I was alone, trying to get away from the humiliation of not being able to read with awe and great flow. I wanted to preserve, but my desire never seemed to come forth. It was hard keeping up with two languages. What I did like doing was read a book and watch the movie that belonged to that book.

This became my fun version of reading. Best memories included me spoiling the movie for my family. It was fun, and at the time, the only thing I actually enjoyed about reading the books that I read. In the third grade, the books I read were not entirely at my level, per say. I did enjoy some books that were based on crime and had nothing to do with what I was assigned to read, but it brought me joy. The Boy In The Striped Pajamas, was my all time favorite book for like about two weeks. Then, I got introduced to speechless, being a tradition to read the book every year after that. In sixth grade, I discovered Speak. I fell in love with that book. I wondered why I liked it so much and began to compare my life with the main characters.

The settings spoke to me like no other book before.This opened the pathway of genres that were available to me. And that felt pretty grand to know that I could like reading because of one book. Until, it didnt. Then I was back to reality, were whatever I said, didnt matter. Reading became a habit that Ive never liked. For my own pleasure, and not having to do read out of my will, reading can be enjoyable. I dont look to be an expert next or the years after that, but do hope to learn from my mistakes and change the habits of blowing the reading off.