I figured I'd take the opportunity to talk a little about my own mother (or "Mum" as they say over here across the pond).
And I'll probably make her cry, which, quite honestly, isn't so hard to do.
Mom, you're reading this now and laughing and crying a little.
Don't lie. I know it.
My mother always encouraged me to read...from when I little, I remember her reading books to me before bed. She'd prop them up so I could see the words and follow along, whether they were simple narratives like Dr. Seuss or chapter books, and that's one of the ways I learned to read.
Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I was the only kid in my first grade class who could functionally read anything and understand it beyond the basics; something around a fourth grade level, I believe. I credit Mom with making me a pain in the ass to the teachers, who had no idea what to do with me while they were teaching all the other kids how to sound out words. They ended up farming me out to another teacher who could work with me.
|They were trying to avoid this scenario.|
Have I mentioned that my mother's a librarian? No? Well, I should. She's taught in schools--both high school and elementary--for most of my life, and worked in our town's public library as well. When I was in college and on break, she'd come home with new books they'd gotten in, and that she was going to read for storytime. Well, you need to practice that stuff...get the inflections and pauses down so the kids with their two second attention spans don't lose interest. So who did she practice reading the books to? Me, that's who.
|It looked like this, only with just a twenty-something in sweat pants on the floor.|
Now, she comes to me for book recommendations. I haven't told her my review on Everybody Poops, though.
Mom's always been one of my biggest supporters, whether it's of my editing position or of my writing, and has promised to read whatever I do write, even when she'd rather pretend that I know a lot less about this stuff than I should.
|How I imagine the first reading of my novel will be from my mother's perspective. My excuse will be that she asked for it.|
So happy Mother's Day, Mom! The next book's on me.