By Ana Jembrek
Lets just say that as a child I was a weird little reader. My school’s reading programme was very rich in diverse selection of (children) books. Yet, I found them boring. I much rather read books my father stored inside our home. Grown up books. Sci-Fi books. Fantasy books. History novels. First book I ever read was Clarke’s “2001: Space Oddysey” at age 8.
I literally made my amazing mom read “Pinocchio” instead of me and tell me what happened so I can write it in my book report.
It is hard to say why I hated children’s literature so much. That kind of storytelling was not what I enjoyed, descriptions were dull, characters were children I would’t relate to. I would much rather daydream about space ships, sand worm, fearless warrior princesses etc.
But as I reached a certain age I realized that I might have…
View original post 578 more words