Updated: August 3, 2023
Originally Published: June 28, 2015
Last summer, I promised my two older children that we would visit the bookstore to select their first summer reading titles. Lily, then 7, eagerly inquired if they would receive prizes. “Of course!” I replied, “if by prizes, you mean books.” She frowned, “But what if we read a lot? What do we get?” “You get plenty of trips to the library!” I said, realizing she was secretly hoping for a toy store visit.
Jake, who was 9, looked puzzled too. “Is this a competition? Will we earn money?” He felt it was unfair since the Harry Potter books he wanted to continue reading were much longer than whatever Lily would likely choose. I reassured Jake that there was no reading contest planned. “Read what you enjoy,” I encouraged. “Tell me about it. Choose another one if you’d like.”
It’s essential to me that my kids embrace reading, always finding themselves in the middle of a captivating story or starting a new one. While they often have the freedom to choose their reading material during the school year, summer’s laid-back schedule allows for more exploration of what’s available on the shelves.
I strive to keep my own summer reading spontaneous as well. Throughout the year, I feel tied to my to-be-read lists—both the stack beside my bed and the digital lists on my Kindle and library queue. There’s often a pressure to stick to those selections, especially if I’ve spent money on them, waited for them at the library, or promised to review a book for an author or editor. In the summer, however, I treat myself to the liberty of selecting books based on my instincts, wandering through a bookstore, or diving into a novel that a friend insists I’ll adore. My book club takes a hiatus in summer, granting me three months of chaos in my reading choices.
I can still recall many of my summer reading choices from years past, even novels I enjoyed two decades ago. Just like a favorite song can transport you back to a particular time or person, a book title can evoke vivid memories of where I was and how I felt when I read it.
After completing my junior year of high school, I spent a summer in Cádiz, Spain, where I immersed myself in Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence. Now, whenever I hear that title, I envision the apartment on Calle Ancha where I lived with a Spanish family for six weeks. The memories of Countess Olenska and Newland Archer intertwine with recollections of my host family’s matriarch, Rosa, who prepared unique meals like tuna pizza and sometimes handed me letters from my boyfriend, Alex. I remember showing her my tears as I read each letter multiple times, searching for any hint that he missed me. “I worry everything will change when I return,” I confided. “Too young to stay in love from afar,” she reassured me in her soothing tone, though her words didn’t ease my worries. Her prediction turned out true, as did my fears. Alex broke up with me early in senior year, and like Newland Archer, I found myself longing for someone I couldn’t have.
The Flowers in the Attic series instantly transports me to the summer I turned 14, when I traveled to Toronto with my grandparents. I happened to be reading one of the books during a weekend when my grandmother, frustrated about something unrelated to me, shouted at me to get my suitcase in the car and flung a pencil at me from across the room. Although Grandma Helen’s outburst was nothing like the abusive grandmother in V.C. Andrews’ story, I vividly recall that pencil bouncing off the wall behind me whenever that book is mentioned.
The novels I read during my college years while traveling through Chile had the most profound impact on me. I arrived in Santiago for a semester abroad in January, coinciding with summer break there. Classes wouldn’t begin until March, so a group of us decided to explore the southern regions. Instead of bringing along books written by Chilean authors that would have aided my language skills, I hunted for English books in a used bookstore. I devoured East of Eden, The Handmaid’s Tale, The Chosen, and The Fountainhead, relishing each one, particularly East of Eden, which felt like a dramatic family saga. I actually remember those characters and their stories more vividly than the coastal towns I visited.
So how will I choose my summer reads this year? I’ll start with my to-be-read piles and lists, but as with every summer, I’ll welcome the opportunities for spontaneity and curiosity. I hope my children will embrace the same freedom this year and cherish their extra time to read before the school year’s frantic pace returns.
This article was originally featured on Brain, Child: The Magazine for Thinking Mothers. For more insightful content, check out this post about at-home insemination kits from a reputable online retailer. Additionally, for valuable information on pregnancy and home insemination, visit this resource.
In summary, summer reading can create lasting memories for both parents and children. By encouraging our kids to explore their reading interests freely, we help foster a lifelong love of books.
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