What happened to your imagination?

As World Book Day comes around again with only really the school children embracing its significance, it struck me that there was something missing - when did the adult mind become so boring?

The first book I recall reading voluntarily as a child; not one that I shared reading with my parents as school homework, but one I chose and picked up and read cover to cover, by myself, unaided and was totally enthralled by was the Frightened Forest by Ann Turnbull.

I simply couldn’t put the book down, I was even annoying my parents as I wanted to read it at the dinner table and sneaked reading it under the covers with a torch at night when I should be asleep.  It become my life for a short period and when it came to an end, I was deflated - how could such an adventure come to an end!  An adventure born out of a few words on paper, an adventure that the author had lead me into her world to develop and grow my own senses and thoughts and bring them to life in a way only I could.  That is the power of the written word, anybody can tell you the grass is green, but that image of that green grass is yours and yours alone - the author can give more details, ‘lush green grass with droplets of water from the night time dew’, again leading you down a thought they have in their mind to recreate it in yours, but the creation is still your own and this creating is without horizons, enhanced and limited by your life experiences.

I didn’t know how to progress with my reading, how could I carry on in this world I had created, so I asked the font of all knowledge - my Mum.  She said find out who the author is and get another one of her books - it is likely they write in a similar way - so thats exactly what I did.

Just that one piece of simple advice got me reading, I was well and truly bitten by the book bug - or maybe book worm!

Now I write, I enjoy writing and given the opportunity my true personality comes out, stories based on experience with friends on the golf course or in life, my written world is not bound by leathers I love sharing my stories with you, but you will create your own images and somewhere along the line the images I have and the images you have will coincide and you’ll think - that was a great read and you never know, an older wiser lady might say, well find out who the author is and she what else she has written.

I express myself through the written word, my words from my heart; the ones on paper are not always the words from my mouth.

How do you share your love of something?

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p.s. it bears no significance that my surname is now Forrest - clearly I wasn't frightened that much!!