My earliest reading memory
My strongest early memories are of my mother reading to me, before I’d learned to read myself. I’d follow her around, begging her to stop doing her housework and read to me. When she did, it was usually from Grimms’ fairytales, which we both loved. But she never read long enough to satisfy me; I always wanted her to go on. I didn’t understand how housework could have been more important. (I still don’t.)
My favourite book growing up
My early love of fairytales endured and I developed an equal love of myths. I had a paperback edition of Edith Hamilton’s Mythology with illustrations by the startlingly named Steele Savage that was so well thumbed it ended up needing to be held together with rubber bands. As a lover of horses, I also became a devoted fan of the Black Stallion books by Walter Farley.
