My earliest reading memory
I was six years old, and sitting in class, as the teacher ground through each sentence of our class primer. I was so frustrated by how slow it was that I started reading ahead to myself, silently. I remember being stunned when I turned the last page. It felt like magic. I had started the day not reading at all, and ended it reading a whole book.
My favourite book growing up
The James Herriot books. I was originally drawn to them because I loved animals. I read them starting at age 10, over and over, despite – or maybe because of – the fact that I lived in a very different world from Herriot’s (modern-day New York City, with zero access to farm animals). I loved his warmth and self-deprecation. He made me want to be just like him: a veterinarian writer. Then I realised it was actually just the writing part I wanted.
