Enid Blyton Damn you to hell!

Enid Blyton Damn you to hell....actually I’d rather you didn’t I was a sickly kid when I should have been taught to read and write at school, and because I wasn’t there it had a negative effect on my early school life I sort of got left behind in the wake of everybody else.

So my mother took it upon herself to “help” me (that just meant more lessons when I got home) now my handwriting to this day is not what you would call the best (but I do mean well hahaha) not like my brothers who has the neatest handwriting I have ever seen and I do mean ever! But reading with the right nudge was slightly different, I picked that up pretty quickly in fact I was soon leaps and bounds ahead of the rest of my year, once the penny dropped I enrolled in my local “kids” library and soon ploughed through about 90% of their entire stock in the space of two years I devoured just about everything in my way I was taken to the library twice a week in the school term more in the holidays, I remember one summer holiday getting books out on the morning and reading them before close of play and taking them back (only because we were visiting relatives and it was on the way) and being told off by the senior librarian (who was in a huff because he had been there all day) “wasting peoples time if I hadn’t wanted to read them I shouldn’t take them home” at which point my mother stepped forward and ripped him a new one informing him that if he didn’t believe me about me reading them ask me pertinent questions about the books in question, when he said that wasn’t necessary, my mother rounded on me and fired a number of questions at me, which I answered without a hitch. Me and Mr. Scott got on great after that.

At the age of eleven I applied for a senior library card (you had to be fourteen in Gimpsville’s library) and Mr. Scott give me a letter of commendation (They did things differently back in the day and not all bad) and I had to go before some old codgers and demonstrate what I intended to read, they were flabbergasted that I wanted to read everything, not just gory things, I only applied because in the junior library I could only get three books out at a time, but on a senior card I could get six, now at this point I was getting three out on my mum’s card weekly which was eating into her own reading habit, but I think I inherited my love of reading from her, I didn’t watch much TV at all as a kid something the wife looks at me as though I am  the anti Christ, but reading for me is special I can lose myself in the thrill of a different world, place in time in history, you get more detail from books than you could ever from watching the TV.

By the age of fourteen I had read everything I wanted to at Gimpsville's library (I did keep clear of the vast collection of Mills & Boon selection) but if it had even the vague hint of anything interesting within the covers I was like a cheap suit and was all over it. Thanks to Mr. Scott he got certain sections rotated more than other libraries in the area (anything historical) and he did indeed broaden my horizons from a book reading stand point he guided me to books with a more adult theme that where easier to read rather than just diving in! He was just what you need when you start out in the big bad world of reading.

When he retired after about forty years he gave an interview with the local paper saying that “it was people like” and he named a few people me being one of them saying that we made the job worth what it was, I like to think that I helped him as much as he helped me, when he initially had a go at me he came across as a bitter and twisted old man, who was jaded and hated his job, but as we got to know each other it soon became apparent it was just frustration with what he thought was his inability to influence where he worked(we all know what that feels like) sadly he died about four months after he retired apparently he had been injured fighting for queen and country and had never had the best of health.

I devoured books, apart from finding out where the nearest record shop was whenever I moved the next important thing was a good second hand book shop so I could buy and sell, the one thing I wish I hadn’t left when I got divorced were the forty boxes full of books (1433 books according to my ex sister in law) in the loft of my house, they were given to the local charity shop (not that I minded at least they weren’t burnt like all my photographs) there were no first editions or anything amongst them (hahaha I had took them with me) I always carried with me a rucksack with me and it always had a good half dozen books with me and if I got bored with any particular tome I threw it in the bag and went off to some other mood.

In recent years my ability to read for long periods of time has been greatly affected by the amount I read at work (legal documents and the such like) and I will admit to being too tired to read and although I actually bought some books this time last year I still haven’t got around to reading them (I know I know you can all stop shouting at me). Over the years I have become obsessed with my little books, this will be part of book five in the space of nearly as many months, the amount of time of writing then polishing and then rewriting them for another twenty times (I exaggerate it just seems to be twenty its actually only about seventeen) sometimes I write stuff and polish it to within an inch of its life only to delete because I think it’s drivel(it’s probably better than some of the things I have published but paranoia keeps creeping in hahaha) and with doing the blog I need to try and make sure that I have a fresh perspective, this being creative can be quite exhausting I look forward to the end of June when I give myself a rolling programme of no more than two new books a year (they are not exactly huge....the books that is!) so don’t say that you haven’t been warned then there is the potential (time wise) for me to do two things hopefully go back to reading books on a regular basis and then work on my own work of fiction which I intend to work on and polish and polish, thats the intention it’s taken me a number of years to get to where I am now with it, the hard part will be finding an actual “voice” in which to tell the story ah well it will keep me off the streets I suppose! Until next time Toodles