Daily Journal #112 - The Importance of Reading

My eyes are fixated on the collar of her blue jean jacket and how it somehow remains a little tucked in despite her animated movements.  Her left hand is decorated with two rings, one on her pinky and the other on her middle finger.  My eyes travel to her hair and its thinness and I subconsciously run my fingers through my thick mane.  My fine tipped Sharpie scribbles notes in an effort to stay awake.  My mind flits in and out of presence.  A plane flies overhead.

But then my monkey mind is yanked back to reality when she says, "The best way to be a better writer is to read what other people write."

Read what other people write.

Read what other people write.

Five little words that encapsulate the reason I believe with my whole heart that there are no accidents in this life.

In order to become, you must be.

In order to write, you must read.

I am in a thrift store in hot and humid Texas.  I am scanning the shelf with my eager eyes as my mom and sister peruse their interests nearby.  The cover that catches my eye is sunshine yellow with a bright red sticker tag that says 5 cents.  I grab the book and bring it to my mom and ask for her to buy it.  She glances quickly at the cost and makes a choice that defines my present.

Friends for Big Boy by Penny Platt is the first book I ever owned.

It sits on the bookshelf in the living room next to Capote, Kafka, and Quindlen.  And though the price tag has faded, it still sits in my heart as my first taste of the magic of books.