I Am The Reader Tag

I’ve had this post mostly drafted for a few weeks, but hadn’t gotten around to formatting and whatnot. Then I realized it’s perfect for today’s anniversary, so…here you go.

I found this over at Jo Linsdell’s list of tags, apparently it was created by Penguin Random House to promote The Reader by Traci Chee.

Choose one word that describes being a reader

Curious. A reader is curious. Curious about new worlds, new characters—what’s going on in old fictional worlds or with familiar characters—new ideas. Curiosity about new-to-me facts and perspectives. Or different ways to tell familiar stories.

What is the first book you fell in love with?

There were a number of picture books that probably qualify—the ones I had read to me so many times I could tell when my mother goofed or was skipping ahead so she could move on to something else. But the first title that I can point to with a level of confidence is—as I’ve said so many times on this site that even I’m bored with the story (and many readers could say it with me: Encyclopedia Brown, Boy Detective.

Hardback or paperback, e-book or audio?

Probably paperback, they’re just easier to hold comfortably. Hardback and then e-book are fine follow-ups. I love audio—it’s clear that I listen to them a lot—but I have to be doing something else (working, cleaning, driving), or I fall asleep. So that’s why it comes in fourth.

I know they’ve fallen out of fashion, but I miss a good mass-market paperback.

How has reading shaped your identity?

It practically is my identity. I’d like to think that Christian, Husband, Father, Grandfather, and friend come first–but I’m convinced any of them do. I say that in jest, but there’s a voice in the back of my head saying, “oh, really?”

As far back as I can remember, that’s just what I did. And everyone knew it–as I talked about on Monday, my friend group had me read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy to help us figure out the game. They also handed me Dragons of Autumn Twilight to help us get a handle on playing in that world (we never did, but my Weiss/Hickman fandom started right then). I find myself in similar situations still. There are people were I work that’ll come up and give me book suggestions without us having had a real conversation before. I just emit a bookworm (or ink drinker) pheromone, I think. That was true before I started blogging–it’s only increased since then.

What book do you read when you need to be comforted?

I don’t have a go-to for that. Maybe I should—but really, any fictional work does it by letting me focus on a different reality.

For the longest time, I’d read a Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin book when I was taken down by a cold. But that’s not the same, I know, it’s just the closest I can think of.

One particularly dark part of my life started around the time I’d discovered Jim Butcher—the first 8 Dresden novels helped me through that (as did discovering Jonathan Tropper). I don’t go to either of them when I need comforted, but they ended up that way then. And probably serve the same purpose now, I just don’t realize it.

Who taught you how to be a reader?

Immediately, this line from Alberto Manguel’s A History of Reading came to mind:

At one magical instant in your early childhood, the page of a book—that string of confused, alien ciphers—shivered into meaning. Words spoke to you, gave up their secrets; at that moment, whole universes opened. You became, irrevocably, a reader.

So, I couldn’t tell you when that happened. But the authors that jumped to mind to get me/keep me hooked early on were: Donald J. Sobol, Raymond Abrashkin and Jay Williams, Robert Arthur and whoever was ghostwriting the Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators books, and countless others I can’t recall. Their work has been fed and nurtured over the years by countless more (and for the last 13 years, by people featured on this here blog).

But really, it was my Mom. She introduced books to me, she spent more time than she probably could afford early on reading them to me, and supported my habit when it became out-of-control (and still does).

Describe your dream reading lounge

A comfortable chair—not too comfortable, because I can drift off pretty easily. Good lighting—I prefer overhead lighting (much to my lamp-loving wife’s consternation). A good, comfortable temperature. Not a lot around to distract myself. A decent source of music for the background. Space for a dog or to curl up next to me. I really don’t care what it’s like beyond that–I’m not going to pay attention.

What book changed the way you act or see the world?

What book didn’t?

I’m going to limit myself to Middle School and High School, or this would take a day to write. Also, I’m pretty sure I’m leaving some off–that’s the problem with memory (and I have to say that kind of thing because if I don’t add that disclaimer, I’ll be revising this list for hours).

Adams’ The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (as you may have read here earlier this week); Alan Mendelsohn, the Boy from Mars by Daniel Manus Pinkwater; Jane Eyre; Dave Barry Slept Here; Bierce’s The Devil’s Dictionary; The Right Stuff; Fahrenheit 451; Heart of Darkness (only in that it gave me a lifelong aversion to Joseph Conrad); Lewis’ Mere Christianity and The Screwtape Letters.

As usual, I’m not tagging anyone in this—but I’d like to see what you all have to come up with.