The moment I became a writer

“That’s it. I can’t keep on buying you books like this.”

I remember my mother telling me this, when I was about 6 years old.

For as long as I can remember, as soon as I knew how to read, aaaalll I wanted to do was read. Books were my first friends. My refuge on a bad day. They were always there for me, through the good and the bad.

And the more I read, the more books my mother would try to source for me (God bless her!). First they were brand new copies bought just for me. Then they were books drawn from any and every corner that she could find – my sister’s hand me downs. Books bought for my brother that he never bothered to read. And any and every title passed over from wider family members, all to feed my habit that was getting harder and harder to placate.

“You don’t read books. You devour them.” I’ve been told that more than once in my life. And I can’t really disagree.

So when my mother told me she wasn’t going to buy me books anymore, I was devastated. How would I get my fix?

Instead, she took me on my very first visit to the local library. I cannot describe how excited I was on that very first trip.

“So… I can just pick whichever books I want? And I can take them home and read them. FOR FREE?!” This was the most amazing thing I had ever heard. I cannot exaggerate the amazed excitement that this idea generated in me.

“Well, there’s a limit to how many you can take out at a time. And you have to bring them back on time so that someone else can have a chance to read. But yes, basically.”

That moment, there in the tiny village library which has about 5 stacks of books, a dream was born. It is the strongest and most powerful dream I’ve ever experienced. I knew then and there, I wanted more than anything, to walk into a library some day, and see my book on the shelf.

It took me many years, and a lot of hard work – and there were plenty of times along the way when I gave up on myself and thought I just couldn’t do it – before that dream became a reality.

But I will never forget that day and the way a trip to the village library with my mother changed my life forever.

Photo by Jaredd Craig on Unsplash

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: