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| EDITOR'S NOTE |
| Books related to this article |
| Back When I Was Young (With All Those Books!) |
Back when I was young—back before cell phones and
huge movie multiplexes, back before the booming cable
industry and Playstation and iPods, back when Ronald
Reagan was president (1st term)—there was a summer
where I became a man.
It came not through a traumatic near-death experience but
books. One summer, when I was feeling lonely and that the
world didn’t love me—back when I was the awkward age of
thirteen—I discovered a bookstore called Russakoff’s. It
still stands to this day in Philadelphia, on 10th St. between
Spruce and Locust.
It was a pleasant, if tight, bookstore, with an amiable older
couple who played classical music and gossiped with the
local patrons. Inside were used books, records,
magazines, comics and newspapers, including one
announcing President Nixon’s impeachment.
It was here that I came across the horror of Stephen King,
reading first The Shining and plowing through The Dead
Zone and Cujo and Salem’s Lot. I moved on to John Jakes’
historical fiction North and South and Love and War. I
dabbled in some Sidney Sheldon: Rage of Angels and
Master of the Game, even Follett’s Eye of the Needle.
This was to be my simple introduction into the world of
books. Nothing so heavy as The Illiad or As You Like It
just yet, simply fun summer reads that clued me into the
rhythm, language and sometimes poetry that could be
found in these stories.
Nowadays, it seems as if young adults hardly read—that I
never see them with a book in their hands. And there is so
much there to be found—fun, lessons, imagination, critical
thinking, even the reader’s own tongue, his choice of words.
When I was younger, you couldn’t be found without a
book. It was unheard of in my house and I wish more
parents demanded that of their children. No matter if we
were traveling on a bus or out of state, if we were sitting
waiting for a train or in a doctor’s office, we kids always had
a book handy to keep us occupied and learning.
Oddly, the books we read were books we had chosen to
read, things that interested us or in which the covers
looked interesting, such as the Dr. Who series or H.G.
Wells novels—not things that our parents necessarily
chose for us. When we read we devoured these books
and it whet our future appetites for more mature works with
complex themes.
My “humble” opinion is if kids are allowed to watch a horror
film, then they can read a horror novel. If they can grasp
adult themed movies of lust and sex, then they can read
about romance in novels and poetry. If they love
animation, then they can marvel themselves with the world
of graphic novels.
By the end of that summer when I was thirteen, I felt
liberated, as if the key to the world that I wished to know
had been hidden in these books. Eventually, I found a title
called Looking Good, a coffee table sized book about male
grooming and style. I bought it with my saved allowance
and I still have that book. In many ways it taught me how to
be a man. If you see any young adults without a book,
offer them one. Something good and juicy, not so heavy.
Pick one up from a used bookstore, where various titles
and subjects are accessible and inexpensive for them.
Whet their appetite to read more, to learn more about
themselves and the amazing world around them, both
literary and actual.
Great to see you all again!
H.L. Sudler
Editor
huge movie multiplexes, back before the booming cable
industry and Playstation and iPods, back when Ronald
Reagan was president (1st term)—there was a summer
where I became a man.
It came not through a traumatic near-death experience but
books. One summer, when I was feeling lonely and that the
world didn’t love me—back when I was the awkward age of
thirteen—I discovered a bookstore called Russakoff’s. It
still stands to this day in Philadelphia, on 10th St. between
Spruce and Locust.
It was a pleasant, if tight, bookstore, with an amiable older
couple who played classical music and gossiped with the
local patrons. Inside were used books, records,
magazines, comics and newspapers, including one
announcing President Nixon’s impeachment.
It was here that I came across the horror of Stephen King,
reading first The Shining and plowing through The Dead
Zone and Cujo and Salem’s Lot. I moved on to John Jakes’
historical fiction North and South and Love and War. I
dabbled in some Sidney Sheldon: Rage of Angels and
Master of the Game, even Follett’s Eye of the Needle.
This was to be my simple introduction into the world of
books. Nothing so heavy as The Illiad or As You Like It
just yet, simply fun summer reads that clued me into the
rhythm, language and sometimes poetry that could be
found in these stories.
Nowadays, it seems as if young adults hardly read—that I
never see them with a book in their hands. And there is so
much there to be found—fun, lessons, imagination, critical
thinking, even the reader’s own tongue, his choice of words.
When I was younger, you couldn’t be found without a
book. It was unheard of in my house and I wish more
parents demanded that of their children. No matter if we
were traveling on a bus or out of state, if we were sitting
waiting for a train or in a doctor’s office, we kids always had
a book handy to keep us occupied and learning.
Oddly, the books we read were books we had chosen to
read, things that interested us or in which the covers
looked interesting, such as the Dr. Who series or H.G.
Wells novels—not things that our parents necessarily
chose for us. When we read we devoured these books
and it whet our future appetites for more mature works with
complex themes.
My “humble” opinion is if kids are allowed to watch a horror
film, then they can read a horror novel. If they can grasp
adult themed movies of lust and sex, then they can read
about romance in novels and poetry. If they love
animation, then they can marvel themselves with the world
of graphic novels.
By the end of that summer when I was thirteen, I felt
liberated, as if the key to the world that I wished to know
had been hidden in these books. Eventually, I found a title
called Looking Good, a coffee table sized book about male
grooming and style. I bought it with my saved allowance
and I still have that book. In many ways it taught me how to
be a man. If you see any young adults without a book,
offer them one. Something good and juicy, not so heavy.
Pick one up from a used bookstore, where various titles
and subjects are accessible and inexpensive for them.
Whet their appetite to read more, to learn more about
themselves and the amazing world around them, both
literary and actual.
Great to see you all again!
H.L. Sudler
Editor
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