To say that books saved my life is bit of an over dramatization - but in the world that books have created for me then yes, I guess that statement would stand true. I have loved the written word before I can even remember. When I was a child I used to lay on my bed and "read" even though the words on the page before me didn't mean a thing to me. It was all in my imagination - each book was a new adventure and I have kept that attitude into my adulthood.
I am told that when I was laying on my bed "reading" I would yell down the stairs to my parents "I don't know a word" In response my father would usually yell back "Spell it Annie!" A moment of silence would go by and then my voice (which I really don't remember because to me I have always sounded like an adult) replied "A. Q. T. F. B." From there, the usual response (after what I learned later was a moment of laughter) was usually "Bunny or cat." Fine with the answer I would go back to the book and continue to read - regardless of whether the story was about a bunny or a cat.
This is me at four years old. Part of me wishes that there are pictures of me with my "books" I guess I will have to go searching for those. Until then, I bid you happy reading.
~Anastasia
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