My earliest reading memory
It was not until I was seven that a teacher began to realise I was unable to read. Nowadays it would be diagnosed as dyslexia, but at the time that was unheard of. So I was later than most children to discover a special book. And when I finally did, it was due to my grandmother listening to the radio. I woke up and heard an eerie voice crying, “Let me in.” Her bedroom was at the end of a dark corridor so, terrified, I burst into the room. It was Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë.
My favourite book growing up
Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. When I saw the movie the characters I’d pictured became real, especially Katharine Hepburn’s Jo March. I also grew fond of poetry and learned Edmund Spenser’s The Faerie Queene by heart.
