God bless books. I entered Kindergarten at age five, with a sole objective,learning to read! I'm not quite sure what sparked that fire in my young brain, as no one ever read to me, but somehow I knew that reading was going to be a huge part of my life. I did learn to read. I mastered it so quickly that, by Grade 2, I was sent to Grade 6 each day, where I could read with a class that was on my level.
Once I could read, I was like a sponge. I positively devoured all things written. There wasn't exactly a large choice of reading material at my home. After reading the "Bible Stories" collection (Think hospital waiting room. Large, blue, books, with amazing illustrations. I haven't a clue why or how we owned these...), I was left with the backs of cereal boxes and small appliance instruction manuals. As I wasn't one of those lucky kids that got to order an ass load of books from Scholastic each month, the school library was my best friend. No money needed there. A love of books and the promise to take care of them were all the currency I needed to access the thousands of books there. I was rich!
I soon discovered the magical, wonderful, time machine of The Little House series of books. I read the entire collection over and over. My body may have been stuck in a crappy trailer, with an empty fridge, raggedy clothes, and a mother who could care less, but my mind was safely tucked away in a cozy little cabin, eating a simple but warm dinner, getting tucked into a straw scented bed, by two parents that loved me. I really credit the ability to lose myself in books with preventing my having a nervous breakdown before age 12. I also credit it with giving me the habit of turning my thoughts into script, inside my head. I cannot even explain what I mean about this. But those of you that do the same will know exactly what I am describing.
I have often joked that, were I to ever write my life story, it could only be published as fiction, for no way would anyone believe all the crazy things that have happened in my life.Well, it really did happen and I have decided to write about it. Feelings will be hurt, people will be angry, but the truth is the truth and nothing they do can change that. It is my life story and I have every right to tell it. I plan to tell my story through the words of the little girl, teenager, woman, (me) that was there at the time, sort of like Laura Ingalls Wilder did, with a bit of humor thrown in for good measure. I have never written a book before, but I think I can work it out.
I will still continue with my regular blog posts, adding book chapters also. Book chapters will all be tagged as "Little House. My Way" and so should be easy enough for anyone that is interested to locate. Well, there's the heads up! Guess I better get busy!