One day, I
saw a grandmother & granddaughter in the store. The little girl wanted to
buy a Barbie Golden book. The grandma said she’d only allow her to read classic
books and the Barbie book wasn’t worth reading.
A lady I was
working with, the other day, said she will never allow her daughters to read Harlequin
books. When she was a teenager, growing up in a small town in Alaska, all she
had to read were serial romance books. She felt reading romance books gave her
a distorted view of love.
In both
cases the women were limiting their girls reading to what they feel is better literature.
Personally I disagree with both women. Age appropriate, pleasure reading sparks
the imagination and intrigues the reader to read beyond their comfort zone.
My mom gave
me a Harlequin book after I graduated from high school. Within the pages of
that book I learned to read. That simple book has allowed me to I’ve traveled
through time and space, visit foreign countries and more importantly expand my
own reading and writing abilities.
Outside the
pages of the romance book I’ve formed lasting friendships with other writers.
We have a common goal of allowing our imaginations the freedom to weave words
to form lasting stories.
Thank you
mom for my first Harlequin as it changed my life and made me a better person.
Happy 92nd Birthday Mom.
Happier times
No comments:
Post a Comment