In hindsight, my first literary love was The Monster at the End of the Book. It’s such a cute kid’s book- Grover tries everything he can to keep you from turning the page to get to the end of the book- only to discover that he is the monster (albeit a loveable, furry monster).
I’d love to say that when reading this book- I was having all these thoughts like that the writer was pure genius, how groundbreaking the book was, and more thoughts like that- but the truth is: I was a kid. And no, I just loved the book. And loved having the book read to me. Full disclosure- this book still holds a prized place on my bookshelf- where real-estate is at a premium.
My next literary love is Ann M. Martin. Writing The Babysitter’s Club series- those books really solidified my love of reading. The girls of the BSC felt like best friends, the books were warm and comfortable- like a soft sweatshirt.
Judy Blume outranks Ann M. Martin, though in my total literary love. Her characters- Fudge, Peter, Sheila, Margaret, Vix, Caitlin, Allison, Rachel, and Stephanie (all from different books) were friends at various points in my life. And like old friends, I gladly welcome them back anytime.
Over the years, I’ve found many literary loves, lost some, replaced some. The author may change, but books are a pretty common staple in my life. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
So what authors are your literary first loves? Did your tastes change with age? Have you loved an author and then not so much anymore?
Literary loves- an interesting thought. Does the first literary loves shape you as a reader? Or are they just the first brick in a yellow brick road that leads to untold riches as you embrace the love of reading?