The fourth of May has turned into quite a special day for many Star Wars fans across the globe as they commemorate “the force.” Completely coincidentally, today holds a special memory for me as well, as it is exactly one year ago that I conceived my idea for starting Book Babbles.

Finding my blogging idea
I enjoy putting thoughts into words and tossing those words together to form sentences. For a very long time before that day a year ago, I had wanted to start something in the form of a blog or newsletter. Many ideas had crossed my mind, but none of them seemed like quite the right fit. The advice given by the experienced bloggers and writers is usually this: write about what you love and what comes naturally to you.

It was on the 4^th of May 2018 that this advice finally sunk in with me. It was on this day that I got the idea for starting a blog about books. I came up with the name for my blog on the same day, as well as a bunch of ideas for blog posts. By that evening, I was so excited, I could barely sleep.

However, it took me nine long months of overthinking, doubting, reconsidering, planning and gathering together enough courage and rudimentary knowledge before publishing my very first blog post on the 8^th of February 2019.

So, thinking back to this day a year ago, I have decided to share a bit about myself and how I ended up having such a soft place in my heart for books.

Reading my first book
I was four years old when I started copying alphabet letters from a stencil. I remember quite enjoying drawing the letters, even though I still had no idea how to pronounce them. I even used my new-found writing skills to name one of my new dolls I got as a present from my uncle: I scribbled down some letters and asked my mom what it spelled out. Of course, my letters did not exactly spell out a proper name, but my mom managed to transcribe it into the closest possible pronounceable version. And so, my doll was named Tubbas.

However, I soon did start to learn how to pronounce the letters (with the help of my very patient mom and elder sister) and after I learned how to spell out my own and other family member’s names I moved on to the next logical thing: books.

Fortunately, I grew up in a house where there were a lot of books. Since I was the third child there were also books of varying levels, which meant I could always find something on my own level as well as on a more challenging level. Luckily, when you are five years old, you still love challenges. As children, we were often read stories in our house. But eventually, I decided I wanted to try reading one myself. It turned out to be this little book: Piet Pierewiet, a story about a family welcoming a new pet bird into their home.

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I still remember how my mom helped me spell out the first words and then, slowly getting the hang of it, discovering the wonderful feeling of making sense of written words on a page.

The Library
I remember driving with my mother one day and her parking the car in front of a building that I didn’t recognise. It was the library. Needless to say, this idea went down exceptionally well and it turned out to be the first of probably hundreds of visits to our neighbourhood’s public library.

I loved the library. I loved the stacks of picture books jumbled into the tables that looked like bookshelves turned on their sides. I loved sitting on the small little chairs and deciding which books to take home that week. This was, of course, the toddler section. As time went by, I moved on to the regular children’s fiction shelves.

By the age of ten, I was still reading mostly Afrikaans books. I felt somewhat intimidated by reading English, but I remember getting frustrated at seeing all the interesting-looking English books on the shelf and not being able to read them (up to this day, I am still a sucker for an intriguing cover!). Fortunately, around the age of ten, our English studies in school started to pick up the pace and I attempted some of the easier English books I found in the library. It was challenging, but also a whole lot of fun and it opened a new gigantic world of literature to me.

I recently made a visit to this same public library in Silverton, Pretoria. Apart from a new counter and study area, I was amazed at how little it had changed. Sure, the books on the shelves had to move up to make place for Harry Potter, Twilight and Captain Underpants, but apart from that, the youth fiction section remained almost unchanged – and surprisingly well preserved. Not only did I find some of the same titles I read 25 years ago, but also the exact same copies that I took out of the library when I was around the age of nine and ten.

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Here are some of the books I loved borrowing from our library around the ages nine to twelve, of which I still found the exacts same copies in our library!

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The Intrigue
I’ve often tried to put my finger on what exactly it is about books that intrigue us humans so. For me, I guess it was a little bit of everything. Captivating cover illustrations, promising titles, the rustling of the pages. But, above all, it was the stories. In order to follow the stories, I had to imagine worlds and characters that were unfamiliar to me and I think it were these “worlds” that fascinated me most.

I think all the books I read a young child influenced me in some small way, but there were a few ones that stood out for me. There was a series of books from Helena J.F. Lochner which contained short stories of various kinds: fairy tales, adventures, family stories and animal fables. I remember pleading with my mom in the evenings to let me stay awake to read “just one more” of these stories before turning off the light. This was more than 25 years ago and I hardly remember any of these stories, but I will never forget how they used to make me feel.

Reading and life
It wasn’t until I started school that I realised that reading didn’t come naturally to everybody. I remember feeling quite lucky that I was a good reader, and I guess in a way I was lucky, as it served as a big escape from reality for me. As a child, I loved staying in my own dream world and shutting myself off from the real world and people. Although this is not necessarily a good thing, it has taught me to use reading as therapy and a way to reach myself, which I am thankful for to this day.

I also realised that there were many things that didn’t come naturally to everybody! I couldn’t run fast (or run at all, actually), had a difficult time catching things (especially balls) and up to this day, I still don’t understand the rules of a game of hockey or netball (despite playing it for several years). I was terrified of hurdles and horses and the high bars of the jungle gym. At the age of nineteen, I still thought that I would never be able to walk safely in high heels and at the age of 34, I still suspect that I actually have no clue how to use an eye liner or a hair dryer (besides for drying damp laundry on winter mornings). I guess we all have our own “things” that come naturally. And thinking of all the things I am terrible at, I am really grateful that reading was never one of those things.

I am often astonished at how much children can read! I remember heading to bed with a book after dinner on Friday nights, reading until I fell asleep and then waking up early Saturday morning, picking the book up from the floor and finishing it before I officially “got up” for the day. I also remember reading Charles Dickens’ Bleak House during high school and, although puzzled by its complexity, not being remotely intimidated by the page count. If I only look at such a book now, my eyes start feeling tired while my brain starts calculating how many weeks it will take me to get through it.

And that is the sad truth. When one gets older, there are groceries to buy, dinners to cook, dishes to wash, traffic to endure, houses to clean, bills to pay, admin to do, broken things to fix, sleep to catch up and, of course, a career to keep afloat. Not to mention those who also have spouses and children to take care of and spend time with. Reading a lot becomes very, very difficult!

Although I have never completely given up reading, there were times during the past sixteen years or so when I had read very little or did not finish a book for months . As I’ve said, everybody have different things that come naturally to them and, although they don’t come that naturally anymore when we get older, we are supposed to make an effort to use those “things” as therapy and relaxation. Looking back on all my years, I can honestly conclude that I cope better with my life and my circumstances when I do read a lot. So, over the past seven years, I have made an effort to bring regular reading back into my daily life.  And it has been worth it.

From here forward
I never seem to get bored with books or topics surrounding books. That is partly why I had come to the decision to do more than just read books. I want to know more about their content, uses, authors, illustrators and publishers and share this knowledge with other book enthusiasts. And that was my plan when deciding to start Book Babbles.

Those of you who have followed my blog posts over the past few months might have noticed that I have a special place in my heart for children’s literature. Everyone who discovers books are fortunate, but I believe those who discover books when they are young are extra fortunate. Learning to activate one’s imagination is a useful tool for life. Children’s fiction succeeds more than any other genre in teaching us that our minds need more than a mere “good story.” They need pictures to draw and worlds to escape to. They need characters that symbolise humanity and truth and tales that awaken in them the desire for adventure.

I feel far from qualified to be writing this blog. I am not an expert or specialist. I have read a lot of books in my life, but there are those who have read far, far more than me. I own a lot of books, but not nearly enough to start even a small library. I can read well, but I have never been a speed reader and some days my tired eyes get the better of me and I just go to sleep instead. I get intimidated by overly complicated or philosophical books and I have never published anything or worked in publishing. But, perhaps that is exactly why I feel I should be writing this blog: to reach other book lovers who are just regular people. I am just an ordinary person who was lucky enough to have sprouted a love for books and have found them to be a wonderful tool and refuge for dealing with life. And since studies had proved reading to be immensely beneficial in so many ways,  I would like to offer others the opportunity and motivation to develop a love for books too.

Happy May the 4^th, and may the force be inspiring you to read!