When I think of my reading journey, I can only say that it began at a time I do not remember.
I read my first book at two (or three, but not older, according to my mother): a picture book of course, but one that was meant for much older kids, able to read. My parents did not have access to the sort of books for toddlers that are readily available these days, so they bought me what they could—a comic book with a storyline and characters far beyond the reach of a two-year old.
I hardly ever read any fiction that’s from ‘now’ – I much prefer G. K. Chesterton, P. G. Wodehouse and Jane Austen. But I’ve found that now I have a Kindle I read a lot more! Terry Pratchett is brilliant however, he is one of the very few recent authors I give a damn about.
“sometimes I struggle between the two” – I’m so with you on that, I wish I had the luxury of reading more! I’d even do a literature PhD just for that, despite that like you, I also have a little bit of an opposition towards academic interpretations of stories and poems. Maybe when I retire 🙂
Ack! How long have I been gone? What’s this about a wheelchair?
It was reading that got me into writing 🙂
And, like you, i now tend to neglect my reading, preferring to write instead.
I don’t read as much as I’d like anymore, which is a shame 🙁
I read whatever attracts and holds my attention and not always the books that get all the hype and are supposed to be the big hits. I like Kathy Page, Amar Lakhous …
I’ve always been a voracious reader and discovered adult fantasy and science fiction when I was in grade school. Too many school years of dissecting ‘the classics’ turned me off of literary fiction, but fortunately not reading.