This blog hop is open to blogs that primarily feature book reviews of literary fiction, classic literature, and general literary discussion.
How do I know if my blog qualifies as "literary"? Literature has many definitions, but for our purposes your blog qualifies as "literary" if it focuses primarily on texts with aesthetic merit. In other words, texts that show quality not only in narrative but also in the effect of their language and structure. YA literature may fit into this category, but if your blog focuses primarily on non-literary YA, fantasy, romance, paranormal romance, or chick lit, you may prefer to join the blog hop at Crazy-for-books that is open to book blogs of all kinds.
Instructions for entering the Literary Blog Hop:
1. Grab the code for the Button.
2. Answer the following prompt on your blog.
(Suggestions for future prompts? Email to them us at thebluebookcase@gmail.com)
This week's question comes from Debbie at Reader Buzz:
How did you find your way to reading literary fiction and nonfiction?
...and this week's answer comes from Meagan:
So I don't anticipate this topic to lead to a fierce debate or anything, but I really liked the question, and I think it will be awesome to read about how all you bibliophiles learned your ways (:
I was so lucky to grow up with parents who love to read. My dad traveled a lot when I was a kid, but whenever he was home he read out loud to my siblings and me before we went to bed. My first memories are vague recollections of listening to him read Curious George, Paddington Bear, and Balloonia. Then came series by Laura Ingalls Wilder, Lloyd Alexander, C. S. Lewis, and J. R. R. Tolkien.
As I got older, I started branching out more in my own reading, and thanks to my book-loving parents, there was never a shortage of things to explore. I think I eased into a love of literary fiction somewhere in between the Great Illustrated Classics (remember those?) and the rows of glossy Penguin classics lining the shelves of our library.
Around eleven or twelve I began to work my way systematically through the titles, reading faster and faster until it actually became a bit of a problem. Sure, I got in the same trouble as most kids for sneaking a flashlight into bed with me, but it wasn't just when I was supposed to be sleeping that I let reading take precedence over other necessary activities. You see, it was also around this time that I developed a special knack for disappearing with my latest novel whenever I was supposed to be doing the dishes, or cleaning my room, or putting away my clothes. When my mom would finally find me, I'd get in trouble or be sent to my room, but that was awesome because reading in bed was way more comfortable than under the stairs or in the hall closet!
Finally, my mom put her foot down. For the rest of my adolescence (or at least until she could threaten me with things like confiscated car keys and missed parties) I was grounded from reading for pleasure when I was in trouble. If my siblings and I were fighting, they all got sent to their rooms, and I got sent to the couch in the living room where the only thing I could do was watch TV (and we didn't have cable). It was the worst!
So, somewhere in between hiding Nancy Drew under the covers, and sneaking Tom Sawyer and the Swiss Family Robinson into the living room couch cushions I developed the dear and life-long habit of a voracious appetite for a good book. My tastes have been refined a little since that one July before junior high when I read all the Hardy Boys in a month, (I've even read a piece of literary NON-fiction or two), but I'll always look back with fondness at the beginnings of my affair with good literature, and the way my parents made it both a special treat and a stolen pleasure.
How about you? What circumstances drew you into a love of literature? Was it your family? A specific author or book? An obvious lack of obedience?
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Happy Hopping!
