When I was in my early teens, someone shoved a copy of Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card in my hands and told me to read it. It may have been my late Uncle Grant. I was quite resistant to it at the time, but eventually I read the first few pages and didn’t put it down until I was done, some 9 or 10 hours later.
Recently, as my son has become such a bookworm, I’ve running out of books to hand him:
- Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne
- Strange Case Of Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson (an appropriate version)
- The Lost World by Arthur Conan Doyle
- Invisible Man by H. G. Wells
- Star Surgeon by Alan Nourse
He’s tried Tolkien, but can’t grasp the writing style… funny, that was my hang up so many years ago.
He’s been avidly waiting for me to finish Ender’s Game a second time around and I finally finished it earlier today in the reading room… I found him and handed him the book with a smirk and casual, "It’s your turn."
He made a huge smile and gave me a tight hug, snatched the book and sat on the couch to embark on an adventure. I love my son. I love his sense of adventure.
Tags: Phoenix Snider