I stopped reading when I was about six.
That’s strange to say, right? Here I am: a storyteller, a writer. But I also have a tough past with reading.
Around first grade, I got tired of being tested for reading. I hated reading something just to get brought hard comprehension questions. I didn’t understand any of it. So, I stopped reading completely.
I hated being tested over what I read so much as a child that I stopped reading. By second grade, I was behind on my reading level. I used to be taken out of class just to practice reading and given stickers for attempting.
Mom, studying to become educator at the time, wasn’t going to let that keep happening though. She bought this “new, interesting, but popular” book that she had heard a lot about lately. She decided she was going to read it with me every night until my reading skill improved. The book was called Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.
I got back on level in less than a year. By fourth grade, I read ten books at once even when my teacher told me not to. My fascination with stories grew.
Now, I write novels for fun.
