A biography of my life: Reading
From the age of 3 or 4 months I was introduced to the wonderful world of reading. Every night I was read to by either mummy or daddy, before being put into my cosy cot.
By the age of 2 I had completely memorised a 50 page book of the Disney film: Cars. My mummy just had to say the first word on the page and I would read the whole page.
At 2 and a half I started reading the Oxford Reading Tree books featuring the memorable Biff, Chip, Kipper and good old Floppy the dog. I still love reading their funny encounters with the magic key.
At 3 I started reading longer, more challenging books with more words and less pictures, so I had to imagine some characters. I think that is the best bit of a book without pictures.
By 4 I started reading Ladybird fairy tales. They had some pictures in, but not too many. Some personal favourites are: Hansel and Gretel and Snow White and Rose Red.
At five I was a free reader in reception class. It got quite boring reading easy books and I wanted a challenge.
By 6 I was reading Harry Potter. My favourite characters were Harry and Ron because Harry was brave and Ron said some very amusing things.
At 7 and 8 I was browsing through the Hobbit with daddy. It was a tale of dark things lurking in the gloom and a constant battle for peace.
Now I have read: Journey to the centre of the Earth, Roof toppers, Whale boy, Deathly Hallows, The wind in the willows, The secret garden, Black Beauty, The Wizard of Oz, Moon fleet, Boy, The Witches and Eragon, to name but a few.
Why I Love Books
With books I get lost. In my mind all the characters walk around in an imaginary world.
I can see, smell, hear and feel the emotion that the Author is explaining in the book. I like that you can take old myths and legends and give them a new and fresh feel. Also many Authors expand on what is known and make it their own. I love fiction because it doesn’t have to be something real. I can learn lots of new words and meanings that I have never known before. I learn information about people and places from Information books such as: 100 facts about Sharks and 100 facts about Dolphins. Books take me to an entirely new dimension. I could sit for hours on end, totally lost to the world around me.
I would love to read: The Rag Witch by Garth NIx, The Fifth Elephant and The Wyrd Sisters by Terry Pratchett and The Complete Works of Shakespeare.
The Book Dream
“What are you reading Aidan?” asked Mum inquisitively as she put down an ice cold bubbling drink of lemonade.
“The Thief Lord,” I replied. The wind tickled my nose in the light breeze. The pages flapped about gently. I lay down on the grass in the garden and started to read curiously. The active ants ambled over my legs. I gave out a great big yawn. I began to feel drowsy and my eyes were now smaller than an eyelash and at once, total darkness. Suddenly, I found myself in a boat as Prosper (the books main character) with Scipio – another character – standing next to me.
“So prop, would you like to come to the Island of Secrets with me?” asked Scipio.
“Sure I would,” the words slipped out of my mouth like I never meant to say them. I hopped on to Scipio’s boat and we set sail for the island of secrets.
“There it is, in the distance,” Scipio pointed out a shadowy figure of an Island.
“Remember watch out for the Conte, he doesn’t want anyone to know about the carousel, so don’t underestimate the lengths he will go to make sure the carousel stays a secret,” Scipio warned me. We parked up the boat and ran over to the glimmer of light we saw in the distance. Suddenly a shadowy figure appeared in front of us.
“Hello boys, the figure said. Suddenly, ‘Bang! ‘Off went a gun shot. I woke up with my heart racing in a pool of sweat. I had knocked my lemonade over and the ants rushed over to taste the delicious sugary treat.
“What’s a matter Aidan?” asked mum.
“Nothing, but there isn’t any carousels hidden in the garden anywhere are there?” I asked.
“No there isn’t, “replied mum looking at me with a confused expression.
After a hard day at work,
I always have a good book sitting lazily on my table;
It always helps me recreate the joy,
Of reading like I did in my childhood,
Me and my book,
It will always be just us two,
When I have a lot on my mind,
My books are always there for me.
I sit with my feet up on the glossy table,
With a thick paperback in my hands,
No matter what novel I’m reading,
It helps my problems flow away.
And during the day time passes by,
My boss tells me off for not doing my job,
When my boss tells me off, I have never felt so relaxed,
For my book is always with me.
Books are part of my soul,
The only objects I adore,
So when I am feeling down,
I can always pick up a book to comfort me.
Me and my books,
It will always be us two,
When I have a lot on my mind,
My books are forever with me.
AHHHHH!!!! Everyone screamed as an earthquake rattled the earth. It was like a big giant shaking the world. I looked at what was happening, sat down at spotted four mysterious books, which were stationary. I wondered, during a earthquake like this, how could 4 books be completely still. I had to find, more information…
I gently lifted up the books and all of a sudden the earthquake had stopped mysteriously. The books started to hover over my hands, so I immediately grabbed them and ran home. I studied the books hardly. It said, “ You are reading a book. A book of magic! You found them still in the library during a frenzied earthquake, you wondered how these books were still, well these are the four books of eternal magic life. You are now given a magic core in book two. If your you use your magic for evil, your magic will be turned against you, and you will unleash a dark bright demolisher that will rule over the world, so be careful of what you do, or else the demolisher will get you…”
Jake read every single word and memorized it. He turned to book 2 and a golden core floated above the magical pages. He pressed it against his heart and a wand and a spell book came out. There lay a different normal weird world in front of him!
I peeled open the burgundy book revealing the first chapter of the 27th Harry Potter instalment.
“Shakespeare hovered his racoon fur cloak over his spineless back; before dropping it onto the floor, giving a pile of dust fluffy protection, in fear of the loudness created by the opening door. The great writer (and spy) grandly stood in an 11 metre long rectangular room segmented into two by a wall with a plethora of oak panelling on the right hand side.
Shakespeare turned towards the creator of the noise. A silver, pale faced wizard of pure evil stepped in like the rightful owner. His five centimetre long starry white teeth grinned like a mad hatter. His name was Voldemort. Shakespeare’s glance faded as he pulled out from a scabbard, a mirror like silver sword with a rounded cuboid handle. On the end was a diamond shaped sapphire, and smaller copies of this were pasted on all four sides of the handle close to the bigger one.
The writer and the wizard then went head to head in a battle for their lives. Voldemort pushed the sword blade that was pointed at him towards Shakespeare’s emerald chest. The wizard immediately took the mirror like sword off of Shakespeare whilst grabbing the writers quivering neck, then threw him against the panelled wall. Using his magic to keep Shakespeare captive, Voldemort then took the sword and threw it into Shakespeare. As the great man himself would say… he died.”
In one noisy school, named Beach park high school, there was an 11 year old girl named Sarah and she loved reading books. Everyday she got up and read a book, which took about a month, and when it was finished Sarah went to the shop and got a new one. On a bright morning Sarah came across a book called the time traveling twins so she picked it up. As she was half way through she threw her book on her desk and ran off. Suddenly, the book started glowing and a character from the book jumped out. The character tried to snatch Sarah and trap her in the book but as soon as the character went outside it all burnt up but that character was one of the time sisters and Sarah went back in time 6500000 years never seen again until the book was read.
I’m the best!
It was a warm Summer’s day and this enabled Mrs Jones’ two children to play outside. As per usual, their size 5 Brazuca was being hoofed around the garden. However, on the table there sat four very unique books. All of these books were special because Mrs Jones had had them since she was three! Furthermore, all of them were able to do something that would make Mrs Jones faint immediately…. They could talk!
This special quality was what most books dreamed of, consequently the ‘fantastic four’ respected their ability. All of these books were different because one was a comic, another was a poetry book, the third was a fiction book and the last was a non-fiction book. Being different types of books didn’t bother them, it made them feel special. They all learned from one another and respected each other. However, the comic liked to gloat, so he told the others, “I’m the best because people love reading me!”
But the poetry book replied, “I’m the best because I entertain people with my perfect poems!”
“Actually, my exhilarating tales make me the best!” The fiction book shouted.
“Why are we arguing?” The non-fiction book asked, “we’re all the best because we teach people different things.
They all agreed and stopped quarrelling.
From the on, they all thought everyone was the best!
There once lived an 11 year old girl called Olive Williams. Olive’s nick name was book worm because she read a lot of books. She reads so much that she spend all her time reading. -Olive doesn’t even have friends because she spends her time reading.-
One day, Olive went to the library to read more books ( she had finished reading all the books in her house). She first picked up a book that had shiny stars scattered all over the cover of the book. The centre of the front cover had a title in bold letters that says ‘Learn About The Stars’. Olive wasn’t interested so she put the book away. Then she found a book with violins, guitars, pianos and recorders on it. That book was about instruments. Olive was intrigued. She sat down on a seat and started reading. When she got to page 10 she found something incredible. It was a cheque! It said on the cheque £1000!
Olive was excited but confused at the same time. She didn’t know what to do with it. Should she give the cheque to a responsible adult or should she spend all the money?
Today has been such an exhilarating day. I awoke at 7 in the morning, prepared for the day ahead. It may have been a foggy Friday but it didn’t matter. My mum took me and my friend Rebecca ice skating; it was hilarious because i couldn’t stay up on my feet. I had to hold onto Rebecca the whole time, it was so funny. My mum was watching us and capturing all the funny moments , there was a lot of me falling over and sliding across the floor on my belly like a penguin.
After ice skating we dropped Rebecca home and then I went back home and got all my work and books as I had a tutoring session at my tutors house. I was going to my tutors house for over 3hrs which sounded dreadful but I loved to learn. My mum dropped me to my tutors house at about 3:30, when i walked into her home she had a dozen books stacked up high on her dinner table like the Eiffel Tower. It was a long, hard day but I had learnt so much in those hours with my tutor.
” Revision i so boring ! ” I groaned. “This is not fair !”
I was revising for the huge exam I was going to take, it would decide whether I belong in sixth form or not.
I had studied for the exam for at least two months now, and the test was only one week away !
” Be quiet and just revise !” my Aunt shouted from the ground floor.
I didn’t really like my Aunt, because she was always mean to me. My aunt always looked after me when my mother and father were out. We never did anything fun. She always made me do work, and nothing else. I had begged my parents for a babysitter , but they always said no.
The upside to my aunt was, that she always kept my phone in the same place, the first drawer at the back of the kitchen. I crept down the stairs and opened the drawer. I grabbed my phone and sprinted up the stairs and back into my bedroom and turned on my phone.
” Isabelle !” I heard my aunt shout from the lounge. ” Give your phone to me right NOW!”
As soon as I had given my phone to my evil aunt she said,
” Now go upstairs and REVISE !”
I revised for the rest of the day and as soon as my mother and father came home, they said in unison,
” Let’s go to the cinema !”
” I can’t,” I replied,” aunty said that I have to stay here and revise.”
They both sighed and I then ran up the stairs.
” Revising is so boring” I kept repeating in my head.
When I got my results to my exam, I jumped up and down with glee, because I had passed!
” I guess revising is important then,” I sighed.
At the age of 1, my mum and dad read me Thomas The Tank Engine books every night when I went to sleep in my cot.
By the age of 2, I was so attracted to books that I bought one and I memorised a 45 page book with lots of tricky words in it
At the age of 3, I started to read books that were longer with more and comlex words, but less pictures!
When I was 4, I was one of the top readers in my class as I was reading The Hare and The Snail that really inspired me!
By the time I was 7, I became a free reader in my class, but the books were too easy. Also, I started to read the series of Harry Potter.
Now, I have finished the Harry Potter series and I am looking o get some Shakespear books!
Poem on books
Books are the journey to lands of of joy and pleasure;
Books are the path to wisdom’s great treasure.
Books that we have read and read and read;
Books (those in particular) will help us with the future ahead.
Books, if you have read a few;
Books , then you will know that they are good for you !!!
The ancient library of Oxford University was being destroyed. A terrible fire had started at a nearby bakery and had spread to the amazing University. Every single room was filed with flames and pupils had been evacuated and taken away to the park in the next street.
“Sizzle, sizzle!” Spectacular sparks gathered together in the ancient library. This library was as old as its past owner King Henry VIII. The flaming fire was a roaring lion getting ready to pounce. It ruined the enormous oak beams leaving a pile of pitch black burnt dust lying on the concert floor. “Crack! Crack!” The long, twisty, metallic stair case was the only piece of metal left but it was a tiny bit waxy and had giant holes through it.
The sparkling sparks didn’t die down. They got as hot as the chilli sold in the university cafe. It destroyed every piece of wood including the children’s artwork except one piece. It was a quaint miniature desk which occupied a space in the middle of the library, a pile of boring books placed on top. A dusty bible, a spectacular story and an amazing atlas was all that was left.
Everything had disappeared but why was this desk and pile of books not touched by the fire?
It was at the age of 2 months that my mu and dad introduced me to books and reading. I wold be read to every night before drifting off to a lovely dream in my coumfy cot.
By the age of 1, I could read a page of something, then I started improving, I could read a page more than I could the month before by the end of the month. And so it went on.
I started my carer as a scienctist, reading books, then I wanted to be a teacher, so I trained as a head of books, and that’s what I became. In the school that I studied in… Quilters!
A world of your own
By the age of four, I loved reading. I had memorised nearly all the childrens books in the library! Also all the books at home! But as I got older, I started to think reading was for eggheads! So when someone gave me a book I swatted it away like it was an anoying fly. My mum kept on reminding me, that I used to love reading when I was little. All I said was, “That was then, this is now!” Then a few minutes later she would say : “I am very disapointed in you young lady!” So for my tenth birthday she gave me four books , and put them on the garden table, then pushed the chair beside the table. For a second I just stared at them and they stared back at me. I wasn’t going to read them, I wasn’t an egghead! But then I realised that they looked familiar. I noticed they were four of my favourite books from when I was little! I couldn’t resist any more, I grabbed one and read book after book! By the time I finished them it was time for bed, so I raced upstairs and bounced into my double decker bed. I went to turn off the light, but I was already dreaming, dreaming of reading.
So that’s what happens to me every night, I devour a book before bed and that’s what makes my dreams special.
I’ll tell you why I like them: To me, when I was little, the rhymes were like little people singing in my head. I imagine myself in the park with the dog and the cat. I galloped behind them steadily jumping over stones and dodging over people. But no matter what, I couldn’t catch up with them until they stopped in mid-run because something was wrong. I wasn’t keen on it when that happened! It didn’t give me any clues to what was happening next, except I knew it was going to be upseting! For that reason I asked my mum to come and read it for me. Please don’t laugh at this, but I guess I got a little bit scared when problems turn up. No matter how big or small, even if the ice-cream truck broke down! So please, oh please, don’t laugh at it. That was my nature!
Hey! If you don’t stop giggling right now…….. Shoosh! Let me finish my story. Uhh…..
Sorry about that, it just got a little bit out of hand. So, back to the story.
That was the bad part, but the good part was that I got to imagine it in my head, with my own features in it.
What reading means to me?
Reading represents another life to me, like carrying your own world for example. A world where your imagination can run wild. You can think of anything, own anything you want and act out forbidden things! You can buy any pet you want, from spiders to chickens, dogs to horses or elephants and more!
Now, I can’t think of anything else to tell you. So if that is so, goodbye, I’ll be back with another story soon!
Peering over into a section of the library, I could see: books flying across the aisle,opening by themselves , it was as if I was in Hogwarts.
One of the books spluttered out rainbow-coloured candy,how amazing! In a blink of an eye I heard a sudden whoosh, my nerves got the better of me. I started to wrinkle like an old lady, somebody tapped me on my shoulder. It was a book! The book was a human being. Bewildered, I stood there in shock, by now most of the books were flying.
The shelves groaned with the weight of the thick volumes of books. Books of various shapes and colours stood like statues. Using the wooden ladder, I cautiously climbed to the top of the shelves. Slowly, I took a deep breath and blew away the thick layers of dust from one of the books. The book began to glow like a candle , as I turned the fragile pages . . .
I love books,
They fill my heart,
They build up rooks,
They never tear apart!
They give me an imagination,
I let my mind run wild,
You don’t need an application,
‘Cause its not hot, medium but mild!
Just follow what I say,
Just follow what I do,
It’ll make your day
I can reassure you!
Don’t you want peace?
Don’t you want calm?
Well come to this place,
And I’ll give you a charm!
So if you feel bored,
You are welcome to come,
This little place,
Is for everyone!
So after reading this,
I hope you read books,
So use your imagination,
To build your own rooks!
Remember that there is,
No other way,
To keep very safe,
Than reading books to make your day!
There were books, monument, tedious books as tarnished as a ninety year old newspaper. Odious mound was embroidered on the banded pages which were impossible to separate. The variety of mouldy books, the colours always looking temperamental. The large books were stacked looking like a interminable house. One move would make the opuses fall to the ground with a bang, making them scatter everywhere.
The Secret Library
I entered the room cautiously. The door creaked hauntingly and sent a shiver down my spine. I looked in, but to my amazement, instead of an empty room full of cobwebs, I found what seemed to be a huge library full of shelves and shelves of books. All types of books were there: thick books, thin books, autobiographies, biographies, novels, information books, journals. They just stood there, untouched and dusty, waiting to be read by someone.
I just couldn’t stop myself; I walked straight in, making the floorboards beneath me creak like the door. Prowling around the many shelves, I suddenly stopped. A large book caught my eye by the name of David Copperfield. I smiled gleefully. This book by far was my favourite, having read it when I was only nine years of age. Heavily, I plonked the book on a rickety table with a chair. Sitting down on the chair, I flicked the first few pages. Then I started reading in my head: Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life…
Suddenly, I entered a world full of various characters: Miss Betsey, Agnes, Emily, Pegotty, Mr Murdstone. Hours on end I kept on reading until I decided it was time to stop. I slammed the wonderful book shut and put it back on a shelf. I walked to the door and had one glance back at the room with a wide grin on my face for I knew that It wouldn’t be my first visit to the lovely place.
Irene, careful not to make even one noise, silently tiptoed towards the forbidden room, of which belonged to her rotten uncle, Mr Ophidian. She gently pushed the door to, which was surprisingly open, like it was some sort of precious vase she was not allowed to break.
As Irene switched on the lamp next to her, the light showed her the features of the room. Stacks and stacks of books that were worn out by the millions of hands that had handled them. On shelves lining the walls, were even more books, and an odd instrument here and there, that tried not to be suffocated by the throng of books. A desk made of polished oak stood in the middle of the room, accompanied by an armchair whose wood was on the verge of tearing apart. Ink bottles and pieces of parchment were strewn carelessly on the desk, with quills scattered about as if they had fallen off a bird’s wings. From the ceiling there hung a small chandelier, that was definitely gathering dust, and which also made an apparently fine home for spiders.
“Huh. I thought it would be way neater than this,” whispered Irene.
Thud, thud, thud. Irene didn’t need telling who it was; she knew her uncle’s footsteps and would do for fifty more years.
“Oh, no,” she muttered, knowing there was no way out.
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