Another true story about reading
I was thinking again today about what an avid reader I was as a kid. I'm still a pretty avid reader - I spend at least a couple hours a day reading, pretty much every single day, and I can read fast, yo. If the Harry Potter books had existed then, they'd for sure have been my favorite books. As it is, my internal 12-year old self adores them with an abiding love, putting them next to my actual favorites from that time, Tolkien's Lord of the Rings books (which were in three volumes for me, even though technically it's all one story, and my current edition is all in one volume, but hey, I digress). You can see why I was so very happy to find my new user icon while reading comments to Mark Reads Harry Potter.
Anyhow, when it came to reading at "inappropriate" times, not only did I read after bedtimes, resulting in potential fatality and actual property damage, but I also read during classes. Not in the "I didn't do my homework last night so I'm trying to get it done in class" way, although that certainly happened from time to time, but in the "I know we're supposed to be paying attention to the teacher but I'd really much rather read Jane-Emily or The Borrowers or Lord of the Rings, which I'm trying to do surreptitiously by holding the book in my lap/under the edge of the desk" sort of way.
In fact, I believe I had books "confiscated" by teachers on at least two occasions (once in elementary school and at least once in high school) for that very reason. I am positive that It's Like This, Cat by Emily Neville was confiscated from me in elementary school. Also, that Emily Neville made me cry ridiculous amounts of real tears over the demise of a fictional orange kitten, and that I will never, ever, ever get over that kitten's death, or forget that roomful of reporters, even though I have repeatedly forgotten the title of this book and its author's name and have had to look it up, including just now for this post. GAH! I AM TRAUMATIZED FOR LIFE! (I should note that this massive - and very real - psychological trauma did not prevent me from rereading the book.
Did anyone else out there get busted for reading during class? If so, do you remember what you were reading at the time?
Anyhow, when it came to reading at "inappropriate" times, not only did I read after bedtimes, resulting in potential fatality and actual property damage, but I also read during classes. Not in the "I didn't do my homework last night so I'm trying to get it done in class" way, although that certainly happened from time to time, but in the "I know we're supposed to be paying attention to the teacher but I'd really much rather read Jane-Emily or The Borrowers or Lord of the Rings, which I'm trying to do surreptitiously by holding the book in my lap/under the edge of the desk" sort of way.
In fact, I believe I had books "confiscated" by teachers on at least two occasions (once in elementary school and at least once in high school) for that very reason. I am positive that It's Like This, Cat by Emily Neville was confiscated from me in elementary school. Also, that Emily Neville made me cry ridiculous amounts of real tears over the demise of a fictional orange kitten, and that I will never, ever, ever get over that kitten's death, or forget that roomful of reporters, even though I have repeatedly forgotten the title of this book and its author's name and have had to look it up, including just now for this post. GAH! I AM TRAUMATIZED FOR LIFE! (I should note that this massive - and very real - psychological trauma did not prevent me from rereading the book.
Did anyone else out there get busted for reading during class? If so, do you remember what you were reading at the time?