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Tell us about THE book, story, or poem that changed your life. The one that brought you to love words.
The love of reading, or the love of words is something writers share. Tell us about THE book, story, or poem that changed your life. Give us a synopsis of the piece, with the author and title. If you want to, tell us why we should read it if we already haven't. Only one rule: You can only pick ONE piece. Don't over think it -- pick the one piece that has stayed with you more than the others. We all have reads that we couldn't put down, and some we forged through even though it was painful. So tell us about the piece of literature that stays with you, that sparked your imagination, that made you want to put pen to paper and tell your stories, your words, your poetry. Fellow Prosers- Read through these posts as they (hopefully) come in. Is there a book you've read? Let us know in the comments. One you need to read? Let us know that, too. Let's interact and get a feel for what inspires us to give our words to the world.
Jal1aD3ws
120 reads

It wasn’t a book; it was a series.

They were called the The Magical Treehouse. I say series because I don't remember which one I picked up, I just know I did, and at some point, I'd finished half of them and couldn't stop. Looking back on them now, they seem very corny, but back when I first read them I couldn't get enough. They were my first escape, holding adventures that made me dream and inspired my imagination. Even back then, when kids hadn't learned to draw boundaries, to form cliques, and push out those who didn't fit the mold, I was an outcast. I was different-I didn't fit in perfectly/seamlessly and I knew it. It hurt me and frustrated me to no end, but in those books I found sanctuary. They made me feel safe, warm, protected, happy-a special blend of emotions I(at that point) only associated with being in my mother's arms. I felt that nestled in between bookshelves, sitting on a bean bag until my eyes got blurry from reading and my legs went numb. I reveled in that feeling, in the fact that a mess of paper, ink, and magic could make me feel so much, in finding somewhere I fit. That's where/when I fell in love.

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