In the few weeks since my last post, two of the bloggers I follow have written a post about children’s books that influenced their lives and the choices they made during their early adulthoods.

These posts set me to thinking about which books, of the enormous number I read as a young girl, had the most impact on me and my life. This thought then led me to thinking about why I love books and reading so much and why it was so important to me that my own boys discover the joys of the written word. From these various thought patterns emerged the realisation that I understood fairly early on in motherhood that, if I wanted my boys to love reading as much as I did, I had to identify what sorts of books would appeal to them enough to draw them away from all the competing attractions in our modern world.

When I was a girl, we only had television for one hour a day and the children’s programs were only in English on alternate nights. There were no ipods, ipads or iphones with all their graphic presentations of battles, adventures, space and fantasy worlds to distract me from reading. Books were the main source of entertainment for me other than socialising in the street with other neighbourhood children. My dad was strict and we could only go out to play with other children between 9 A.M and 12 P.M. and then again between 2 P.M. and 5 P.M. That left plenty of time for me to read. This is not the case for my children. In order to get them to read, the book has to appeal to them enough for them to set their electronic devices aside for a period to read.

Looking back, I realise that I loved fantasy books. I was a huge fan of Enid Blyton. Not her adventure books or girly school books but her books about fairies, brownies, pixies and all the other fantasy folk who existed in her Folk of the Faraway Tree, Mr Pink-Whistle, The Wishing Chair and other similar book series. My favourite of Enid Blyton‘s stand alone books was, and still is, The Land of Far Beyond.

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