Written by John Andreula
Edited by Kodid Laraque-Two Elk
Originally published 3-11-2022 on 5280Geek.com
As a young boy, I used to read.
I read A Fly Went By, The Berenstain Bears, & Dr. Seuss with my mother. Yet, sometime during elementary school I stopped reading books.
Maybe it was due to an undiagnosed case of ADD or the discovery of video games–more than likely it was the video games. Either way, I lost interest in the stories found inside of books.
There were well-stocked libraries where I grew up in New Jersey. My parents never denied me when I asked for a book from the school’s bookmobile or the Scholastic catalog. Yet for some reason I no longer read more than the first couple chapters of anything. Instead SEGA, action figures, and playing outdoors with the neighborhood kids filled up my leisure hours.
Despite no longer reading I did well in school. Homework got completed and test scores stayed on point. It took little effort to complete assignments because I retained much from classroom lectures. I discovered bare minimum effort was more than enough.
By middle and high school my avoidance of reading books became artform. I mastered the use of CliffsNotes to complete book reports. What Cliff couldn’t help me with I b.s.’d through. I didn’t recognize the disservice I was doing myself until years later.
The books I skimmed and skipped ended up being more than a missed alternative to leisure activities. They were adventures I never went on. It was intellectual and emotional growth I didn’t have.
I was twenty when I finally broke the cycle.
Sitting in the clearance section of the now defunct Borders books was a copy of The Ultimate Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, a compendium of the late Douglas Adams’ comedic masterwork.
Impulse made me decide that this five novel tome would be the first book I would read in forever. I purchased and read it in its entirety.
I could have kept squandering hours away mouse clicking in Diablo II or Starcraft, but I accrued several lifetimes’ experience points already. Instinctively, I knew there was something big I was missing out on.
Arthur Dent’s adventures ended up being as good as any video game I ever played. They were better than television shows and movies.
Ironically, the first book in that series was a past middle school summer reading assignment I barely even glanced at.
Reading turned out to be enjoyable. Instantly, I was hooked.
I went on to read another summer reading recommendation from my past, Ender’s Game. Orson Scott Card’s tale of Andrew and the Formics was so incredible I went on to read the eight sequels to that story, as well as two separate series by Card, The Call of Earth and The Tales of Alvin Maker.
I realized there was something to the books I avoided in my school years.
Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha and Daniel Quinn’s Ishmael held profound effects for my sense of self. Orwell’s classics 1984 and Animal Farm exposed the dark side of the world. Each held lessons I should have learned when they were first assigned to me all those years ago.
Number The Stars, Brave New World, The Giver, A Wrinkle In Time; more of the same. The list of novels I was required to read but skipped, then finally got around to, goes on to this day. Each title intense, amazing, and impactful.
These days I count my literary blessings.
There are wonderful library systems here in Colorado that find any book I have the whim to consume. I have a wife and child who are avid readers. I regularly share my adventures and discoveries with them. I can even read books that were previously banned or are currently restricted elsewhere in the country and world without fear.
I can never go back to right the wrongs I inflicted upon myself in my youth, but I can and do do better today.
Presently I choose reading over playing video games or watching TV. Oftentimes I prefer books over going out and socializing.
Trevor Noah, while interviewing Levar Burton of Reading Rainbow fame, commented that books were like air to him as a child. Today I completely understand what he meant.
When I was young, I used to see my mother and grandfather constantly reading their novels. I didn’t understand they were engaged in the highest form of entertainment known to man. One that shapes and fuels imagination and creativity, as well as the forming the self. I do now.
Failing Upwards 