Self as the Informant

The first book I have specific memories of is The Monster at the End of this Book by Jon Stone. When I was about 3 years old, I had my mother read this story every night. The story is a cautionary tale where you are guided by the narrator, Grover. He instructs you on each page, to NOT turn the page because it will get you closer to the monster at the end of the book. He takes drastic measures to keep you from turning the page, including using bricks and mortar, and nailing boards to the page. I remember, even by the 50th time my mother had read this book, getting nervous each time we would turn the page and get a step closer to the monster. In the end, the monster is actually Grover, the lovable narrator who has been with you the whole time. My mother did a fabulous job engaging me in the book by reading with excitement and fear and also by talking to me after about confronting things that scare me because you never know what will happen.


Despite being and avid reader from the time I could pick up a book, it wasn't until I was 12 years old that I really became lost in a book. In sixth grade we were assigned Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech. It is a complex story about a girl name Sal who is trying to come to grips with not only her mother's disappearance but also her new life and relationships in the place where she and her father have moved. As an adolescent, I remember being surprised and amazed at how the language and the world created by the author could have such a significant impact on the reader. While I had not experienced the hardships that Sal had in her life, I connected to the adolescent feeling of confusion and the need for answers.