When this month’s topic came up, “Literary Love”, I scratched my head for a number of days trying to decide what to write about. Literary Love? Love of the literary? But…but…I like fun books. Genre stuff. Thrillers. Books with serial killers. Romance with mushy, guaranteed happy endings.
So truth be told, I don’t feel all that qualified to have a discussion on “literary.” I read the required reading in high school. But when it comes to enjoyment, I go straight for the genre books. And I’ve been told year after year that “commercial” fiction and “literary” fiction are not one in the same. Okay. Fine. I’m good with that.
So I decided to look up the dictionary definition of “literary” and look for a loop-hole instead. The first definition that popped up is: pertaining to or of the nature of books and writings, especially those classed as literature.
The nature of books or writings. To me, that means back to the basics.. back to the beginning. My love of books and writing came when I was just six years old. (That’s me to the right, at about that age.) I sat down, write my first short story that I was supposed to read out-loud in Sunday school. I remember the day I wrote it. I remember how I scooted up to my little, white Princess study desk. I remember when I wrote The End and dropped my pencil. I jumped up, papers in hand and ran down the carpeted hallway to my parent’s room to share my joy.
From there, writing was not only a part of my life, it was a part of me. I wrote my first book in 7th grade — or rather, during seventh grade. My teacher at first tried to admonish me, but then she said, “You’re writing a BOOK. How can that be bad?” and let me write in class instead. Whether I wrote journals, fiction, poetry or something else, writing and books have always been a part of my being.
But that moment — when I dropped my pencil on my desk at the age of six was a moment that changed my life. It was the day my love of all things literary — of writing, of reading, of books — was born. That feeling was pure joy, one of those pure “Yes!” moments that come so rarely in life. All my life, it felt like a natural thing that I discovered that love at that age. Now, as a parent, it marvels me. My son is seven years old, and it amazes me to think that the things he loves today just might stay with him for his entire life. Mine certainly has.
What about you? When did your moment of “Yes!” –about anything–come around in your life?