The Book That Changed Everything for Me
I fell in love with books later than most, I think. I did read for pleasure when I was a kid but never really appreciated it as I found it to be more of an effort than an enjoyable hobby. This was mainly because I had a hard time staying focused and comprehending the material. In fact, I remember times when I would spend hours reading, or more accurately, staring at pages with words on them, and not absorbing a thing.
This “condition” carried right into junior high and high school where not much changed except for the lengths of the books we were now required to read. I collected many CliffsNotes in those days to help me get through my English classes, which often included the nightmare scenario of getting cold-called and subsequently busted for not opening the actual book at all.
I wasn’t proud of it. In fact, it really bothered me as few others in the class seemed to have this struggle.
As I look back at my high school years now, I realize my issue wasn’t necessarily a learning issue, rather it was more of an interest issue. I simply needed to find the books that I actually wanted to read.
So, when I was about sixteen, I was in Borders (a now defunct bookstore) meandering through the shelves when I came across a column of trade paperbacks. It was in that moment that I wanted to pick one out, bring it home, and read it.
I was excited.
I had this feeling like I was supposed to read and enjoy all of these books in front of me.
I don’t recall which books I passed over but there was one that caught my eye; first for its cover (yes, covers matter) and then for the blurb on the back. That book was Congo by Michael Crichton. A part of me felt that if I bought the book, as opposed to simply taking it out of the library, I would be more likely to read it since I would be paying actual dollars for it.
I bought the book but didn’t read it immediately, although I did finally crack the cover during the summer before my junior year of high school. The Prologue had me interested when I came across the following passage toward the end:
“His skull had been crushed from the sides, the facial bones shattered, the face narrowed and elongated, the mouth open in an obscene yawn, the one remaining eye wide and bulging. The other eye had exploded outward with the force of the impact.”
I mean … awesome, right?? I don’t remember reading that in Ordinary People or The Good Earth.
And yet, despite the intrigue of a mysterious skull crush, I still didn’t immediately carry on.
However, a couple of months into the school year, I had to have surgery which required a couple of nights in the hospital. This was the late 1990’s so there was no on-demand entertainment like we have now, and it was either regular TV from a poor-quality set that hung high on the wall or books and magazines.
It was during those next two and a half days that I plowed through Congo, totally entranced in the story and the characters. I had never read a book that quickly before and was simply blown away.
That was the turning point for me.
What I finally realized, in that hospital bed in Englewood, NJ, was that there were (and are) incredible stories out there just waiting to be read. And what makes any story incredible (or not) is determined by each of us alone. We can read whatever we want, whenever we want. I encourage all of you to seek out books that move you on some level and don’t let yourselves be swayed by other opinions or pre-set school reading lists.
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To close this first post, I have a request to each of you:
If you already love to read and have a friend or two who are stuck in a negative mindset about reading, like I was, then maybe you can help them find their “Congo.”
It could change their life.
It changed mine.
