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Did anyone encourage you to read


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My Grandad never used to read a lot himself, but he made sure that me and my Sister were quick to learn basic skills like learning how to tell the time, learning the alphabet, learning to write our names, drawing and things like that, so he was the one who would sit with us while we read. I think it used to make him proud :D

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I grew up surrounded by books and these books were well treated, which I know sounds weird but I mean that I grew up knowing that books mattered.

 

I could read amd write before I started school thanks to my Mum, and was always delighted to receive books and book tokens as presents. Additionally my schools from an early age had regular reading time and group story time.

 

If I didn't know how great books were from life at home, then school would definitely have shown me. :D

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My mam used to read a lot while I was growing up (she still does now when she has the time). And I remember getting books for my birthday and christmas because of it. I always wanted to read my mam's "grown up" books :D My dad also reads occassionally but it tends to be sports autobiographies more than anything else. But my brother doesn't read at all. Guess I caught the book-bug.

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Both my mom and dad read a lot, and always have done. My brothers and I could all read before we went to school, because our dad taught us. My mom used to buy a new book for us every week, to encourage us. (It obviously worked!)

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Although both my parents enjoy reading, I can't remember either of them particularly encouraging me to read. As soon as I learned to read, I never stopped. In fact, I think they were concerned about the amount of time I spent up in my room reading...they thought I wasn't social enough. :D

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I don't remember anyone specifically encouraging me to read, but I also don't remember being discouraged, either.

 

But I remember being an avid read at the age of 5. Dr. Seuss was my favorite at the time. :D

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My first memory of wanting to read is when my mum use to take my sister and I to the park; we rented bicycles and rode about and my mum sat on a bench and savoured a book. I remember seeing her, as I rode my bicycle towards her, and becoming aware of such serenity surrounding her. Ever since then, I wanted to have the same peace and I learnt that I could achieve it through reading as she did. The rest is history :D

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My grandmother used to read to us for hours, she was an amazingly patient lady and I think that instilled a love of stories in me. We didn't have a lot of books but what we did have I devoured, including poring over encyclopaedias. I remember the delight when I was first introduced to a library.

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No particular person got me into reading, I think it was just that as a small child my parents read me bedtime stories, bought me books as birthday/christmas presents and encouraged relatives to do the same. My dad's aunt was alway a great source of books. Mum also brought us books from the library. More than anything, my family just made sure there were books about the place and I naturally found my way to them. My passion for reading essentially developed by itself.

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I can't remember anyone sitting down and reading to me, although I suppose they must have because I could read before I went to school. Both mum and dad read, and we had books all over the house - I think reading must have been absorbed :(

 

I read to my own children, but they are not readers themselves, sadly. However, my two year-old grandson is showing signs of being a real bookaholic, so I'm pleased with that. In my hallway I have a tapestry of a lady reading a letter, and my grandson always calls it 'the read'! Seems to be his favourite word: let's hope it lasts a long time.

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No-one really encouraged me, but my Dad is really the one who set the wheels in motion. He was never a hugely avid reader but he did have a bookshelf and when I was about 10 he read The Hobbit to me at bedtime. When I was older he gave me his expensive boxed versions of LOTR and The Hobbit, which I just decided to pick up one day on a whim, and that was that. It's strange because I never really thought of myself as being a book lover. I'm still the only person in my family that reads but during my teens, even though English Lit was my favourite class, I only read slowly and for enjoyment when I was bored. It was only when I was about 19 or 20 that I really started exploring the depths of books and realising what literature was really all about, and from then I loved it all the more.

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My mom used to buy me comics as a kid. I remember hating novels until I discovered Enid Blyton. I came into the reading scene pretty late, as I remember it. The real encouragement for reading came to me from a perfect stranger.

I was 10 and I would walk to a circulating library about two blocks away. An old man in his eighties would see me walk past his house everyday. Once, I don't remember when, he stopped me and began asking me if I liked to read. After that he stopped me nearly everyday. I never discovered what his name was. To me, he always has been the "old man who made me read".

He used to tell me to read The Brothers Karamazov someday. He said it was his favourite book. He's passed away now... It has been about seven years since I've last seen him. I still walk past his house sometimes. I miss him every time I pick up a book.

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Definitely my mother, she loved to read. She read to me and taught me to read before I entered school. Part of my father's family tends strongly towards dyslexia, and I think my mother worried that if she didn't push me early and hard, I'd have the same trouble.

I suspect she was right, as I do tend towards things like mixing up directions and sometimes transposing numbers, but have never had a problem reading.

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I've always been a big reader ever since I was a small child, but I can't remember anyone ever encouraging me to read as such... or at least not to the extent that I do. However, saying that they didn't try and stop me. Neither of my parents are big readers and my dad in particular has never really understood my love of reading at all. He just doesn't 'get it'. He always moans when yet another parcel arrives from Amazon and as my bedroom is directly above the living room his favourite thing to say is 'the ceilings going to collapse with the weight of all those bloody books'.

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