I was in the 9th grade. In my reading class, we had to choose a classic book to read and do a presentation on. Any classic book. The year before, I had read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn for this assignment. One friend was going to try to read Les Miserables. Another would be reading 1984. But I was lost.
So I went to my teacher for guidance. To this day, I don’t understand how she knew me so well. Yes, it was her second year as my teacher. Yes, I had her for a very small class. But how did she know so perfectly what book I would like? And that I would fall so deeply in love with it?
I don’t remember much of my first reading of The Great Gatsby. I remember gasping out loud at the end though, feeling heartbroken. I DO remember begging my parents for a copy and reading that copy once a year for the following ten years or so. I remember reading it in 11th grade English class and feeling superior because I was the only one who knew what was going to happen. I remember being terrified (but pleasantly surprised) by the movie with DiCaprio. What would they do to my favorite book?
No matter how many times I read it, I never get sick of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s words or of the characters. In fact, I want to go and read it now.
Do you remember when you discovered your favorite book?
