My relationship with the written word

Through my life, I have grown extremely fond of literature in general.

When I was a child, the first thing I ever aspired to be when grown was an author. I was quite the storyteller as a child, not meaning that I fabricated things and claimed them the truth; though I may have done so on occasion. If I wasn’t describing extrasolar worlds and civilisations to friends, I was writing stories on countless pages, some of which I still have to this day, and may one day edit and release onto the internet, if not just scan and post.

Following on from my creative and verbose passion, I grew into the knowledge that I was a horribly terrible speller, and my dreams were a little shot down, though I did know that computers were quite the spellers themselves…

Other than school texts, I read little growing up. I did read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R Tolkien in year 5 and 6 (or so), and Harry Potter J.K Rowling at about the same time. I read extensively the year I finished high school, but, having had a long break, I turned again to Harry Potter to ignite once again my passion for books in 2012, devouring anything I could find.

I have recently taken to trolling through op shops and hunting for old dusty books that I can read. One favourite book I recently read is Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury; which I would recommend to anyone. I heard about it from John Green of the Vlogbrothers on YouTube, a hero of mine.