So I took a trip down Memory Lane recently (no, not the Memory Lane in Birmingham, AL), thanks in part to the #SoulBooks hashtag on Twitter, and it resulted in me doing a mad scramble for a whole lot of great books I haven’t read since I was a kid. In the process, I found and bought this:
I can hear you guys now: what in the world? Why is an author who writes in the horror and urban fantasy genres buying a book called The Bubble Gum Christmas, of all things? I mean, I write about zombies and demons and vampires and werewolves and all manner of evil, icky nasties, and I’m purchasing books wherein Santa Claus loses his beard due to showing off while blowing gum bubbles (as he does) and elves use (what else?) more bubble gum to stick a fake beard on because Santa isn’t Santa without a beard? What in the world sort of crack have I been smoking?
There’s a funny little story about this book. You see, The Bubble Gum Christmas is the very first book I ever learned how to read. Like, ever. I was, I think, three or four years old and so excited that I’d figured out how to read it that I went running to my mom and read the entire book to her right then and there.
So this is why The Bubble Gum Christmas has a special place in my heart: it’s the very first book I ever read by myself, and it fueled a love of reading and, eventually, a love of writing that got me where I am sitting today.
In the vein of the #SoulBooks hashtag on Twitter, what books hold a special place in your heart?