Early Scribbles

I don't remember first learning to read, but I do know that it opened up a magical world for me. I devoured 'Secret Sevens' and 'Famous Fives'.  I read The Wind in the Willows over and over again. Ratty was my friend.  He still is.  All of my pocket-money would be spent on cheap paper-back books.  And, although a visit to the library was always a treat, I loved owning books. I loved the feel of them.  I still do.  I have just spent a small fortune on bespoke bookcases to house my ever-growing library...

I have a Kindle, and I love the idea that I am forever but a few seconds away from accessing a new book, but this never beats the feel of a book in my hands.

There was a primary school teacher who asked once what I had done over the half term break.  She called me a liar for saying that I had read 14 books.  I would read one before lunch, one after.  It was one of my happiest holidays.

At the same time I loved writing.  I was praised for writing a story about a school caretaker when I was just five years old.  I haven't stopped writing stories and poems since.

I was always good at English at school.  It seemed to come very naturally to me, although I do remember struggling at times with A-Level English Literature. Paradise Lost was particularly problematic.  And Auden's The Sea and the Mirror poems; I struggled with 'the search for identity' in those. But it wasn't enough to put me off reading English Literature at university, or becoming an English teacher a few years later.

So - do you remember learning to read and write?  What are your favourite books?  When did you know that you were good at English?  What does it mean to be good at English?  What does it mean to be creative? Do your English lessons provide you with that opportunity?

Write a blog post which reflects on these experiences and leave a comment below so that I can find your post and follow your blog.