When I was ten years old I was what they now call a "reluctant reader." Back then they called it being a pain in the neck. I was convinced that I was allergic to books. Whenever someone handed me one I broke out in welts and would scratch myself raw. I walked miles out of my way to avoid libraries and hid in bushes whenever the bookmobile drove passed. I had never visited my school's library, and I wouldn't read unless it was assigned. Books were boring! They made me sleepy! And there were paper-cut tragedies lurking on every page!
My allergy might have stemmed from the kinds of books I was given to read. One in particular that makes me itchy just thinking about it was The Yearling, by Marjorie Rawlings, which won the Pulitzer Prize in 1939. It tells the story of a young boy and his pet deer. No offense to Ms. Rawlings, but as a ten-year-old, I thought it was a real snooze-fest. (Have I mentioned I was a pain in the neck?) At ten I didn't want to read a coming-of-age novel about a boy and his tick-ridden pet. I wanted superheroes, rockets, machine guns, and motorcycle daredevils who jumped over the Grand Canyon when it was filled to the top with man-eating sharks and grizzly bears carrying grenade launchers.
My teachers were well-meaning, and I know it's important to read the "classics" even if they do make your brain hurt, but their efforts backfired. Lucky for me our school librarian noticed. She pulled me into the library, shoved a book into my hands, and demanded I read it. That book was The Mouse and the Motorcycle, by Beverly Clearly. I took it home and read it . . . and read it . . . and read it-over and over again! I had never read a book like it before. I didn't even know books like it existed. It was pure fun, packed with imagination, jokes, and excitement, and best of all, it had a motorcycle (which, when I was ten, was the coolest thing ever). The next week I went back to the librarian and told her how much I enjoyed it. She asked me if I would like more books like it, and my jaw dropped to the floor. "You mean there are more?" That day I became a big fan of the library, or the bookstore, or any place with lots of books. I spent time in the library every day. I haunted the bookstores. I chased the bookmobile down like a pack of kids hunting an ice cream truck. That book, and that librarian, made me want to read. And they also made me want to write stories that would get a kid who doesn't like to read interested in books.
Unfortunately, I don't think I ever returned The Mouse and the Motorcycle to the library. I'm certain I owe my elementary school at least twenty-five thousand dollars in late fees.
Editor's Note: Michael Buckley is the bestselling author of The Sisters Grimm Series.
