You know that moment when you’re reading a book and you just have to stop and bite your lip and squeal or sigh or close your eyes and wrinkle your nose and forehead and press the book against your heart and just like sit there and try to soak up the gorgeous literature via osmosis?

That’s my favorite part of reading. 

A really great thing happened the other day.

Not to say that a many great things haven’t been happening every day; every day, for the past while (because who can really tell when good things begin) I’ve been so filled with life and happiness.  No, happiness isn’t the right word for it, doesn’t feel like the right fit.  Elated.  I’ve been elated, inflated with life and the joy of just being here, doing what I’m doing and being who I am.

There are so many things I wish I could share with people right now.  The silver morning light, looking dusty through my blinds, promising a sun somewhere behind clouds, only to get outside and find a sky clear and endless and perfect.  Meeting interesting people who change my life subtly, who feed the inspiration in whatever way they manage to.  I’ve been elated, inflated, and I’m wondering where this elevated will take me.

Yesterday my mom ran into my fourth grade teacher, Mr. Shelton.  It was in his class that I realized I wanted to be a writer.  It was the first time I put a name to what I was.  And I was lucky to have such a wonderful teacher to encourage me.  Even after moving on, he still did all he could to further me.  I have been really blessed to have teachers like this in almost every year of my school career.

I’m sure he didn’t know who she was, but as soon as she said my name, he immediately asked her if I was pursuing writing, was I still writing, and if not I should definitely do so.  My mom of course said I was, and told him all that I have been trying to do.

I know she was frightened for me, of the opportunity and life she thought I was “throwing away,” but now I can’t imagine getting through this without the support she has given me.

So in conclusion, there are amazing people in my life, even when they’re not constantly there.  I’ll never stop being thankful for them, or thankful for the life and the person I am, and will become.

I love the way books smell as perfect as the the story inside them, and the way an old book seems almost happy to be opened and read.

Have you ever been in the middle of a really really really good book and then you look at the time and you’re like ‘wow I need to go to sleep omg it’s late’ and so you put it down but then YOU CAN’T SLEEP BECAUSE OMG YOU NEED TO KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON AND YOU KEEP IMAGINING SCENARIOS AND YOU EITHER LAY THERE FOR AGES OR YOU GIVE IN AND PICK THE BOOK UP AND THEN you fall asleep in class

teachingliteracy:

inventing-fictions