My earliest reading memory
I was four, watching my father read a newspaper. It’s the main thing I saw him do at home, read, with complete absorption. Whatever he was getting, I wanted badly. After he left, I climbed on to the sofa and stared into that newspaper, saying letters aloud. The first word that asserted itself was O-R-A-N-G-E. My brain flooded with the thrills of colour and taste. I was hooked, for ever.
My favourite book growing up
A fairytale collection called Once Upon a Time, edited by Katharine Lee Bates. It was presumed child-appropriate, but had slipped into our house from a previous era (copyright 1921) when it was OK to scare children senseless. This collection was no holds barred, with fully grotesque illustrations: two-headed giants, stolen babies. Toads and Diamonds, featuring a curse that made toads crawl out of a girl’s mouth instead of words. I credit this book with launching me into adult literature at the age of 12.
