“A Seed”

My first experience with literature was around the age of five. Give or take a few years — my memories from that age are hazy at best. I do, however, remember my father reading the book out loud to myself and my sister with great clarity. That book was The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien. I can see, vividly, the layout of the furniture. My sister and I shared a room, our twin beds lined up along one wall. My father would pull up a chair (beside my bed, I would have you note — clearly I was his favorite) and crack open the tome, dispensing only one chapter each night. No matter how much I protested, bribed, or reasoned, I would have to wait until the next evening to hear any more.

This was almost certainly the seed from which grew my love of all things fantasy, not to mention my becoming a hopeless nerd. I would tell my fellow kindergarteners how AMAZING the story of Bilbo was, what with its hobbits, and wizards, and dwarves, and elves, and, oh my gosh, the WORLD itself! As I recall they could not have cared less, but that didn’t dampen my enthusiasm.

To this day my favorite stories are big and fantastical, be they the works of George R.R. Martin or Robert Jordan or one of almost countless others (thankfully I never had a shortage of reading material). Of course I read more standard children’s works as well — Where the Wild Things Are comes to mind as a favorite — but it will always be The Hobbit that has hold of a special, very consequential portion of my heart.  I couldn’t be more thankful to my father for the role he played in instilling in me a love of reading, or more grateful that he chose such a wonderful book.

– Chris Kimsey