Like many before me, I grew up with my nose firmly planted in books. I spent my formative years chasing adventure, love, knowledge and life between the covers of hundreds of books, and rarely was I disappointed in what I found. Throughout many moves and school changes, books were my constant companion. Frequently, they were my escape; a safe haven in a world that made me anxious and worry. Although I would read any book that I could get my hands on, there were a few that stood out on my bookshelf; these were the ones that were read to tatters, started and finished so many times that I lost count many years ago. These are the stories that I am impatiently waiting to share with my daughter; characters that I can only hope to be as dear to her as they are to me.
Pride & Prejudice, with the awkward but endearing Mr Darcy pursuing the lively and spirited Lizzie Bennet. The Princess Bride, the book with so many memorable lines that it can be recited nearly verbatim in my house. Harry Potter, that magical series that absolutely and forever changed the speed at which I could consume 700 pages. The Great Gatsby, the book that swept me up into a world that I so longed to be a part of, and then broke my heart into a million pieces the moment Jay Gatsby ceased to live. And the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy...This one might mean more to me than all of the others, for reasons only my well-worn copy and I know.
Perhaps it is selfish to want my daughter to fall in love with the same characters and story-lines that have, in a way, become my best friends. But, when the time is right, I'll pass along my reading list to her, and eagerly await her reviews.