Extreme Reading: Summer Challenge

Welcome, welcome. Let’s not talk about why you’ve been away so long and get right down to business.

The best part of Matt’s summer holiday homework was a project entitled ‘Extreme Reading’. The challenge was set for the children to be photographed reading in an unusual place or extreme situation. This excited me more than a little and my mind started running away with itself. As I was pondering how to get a shot of the boy reading out of a train window on the Forth Bridge, or wondering how close he could get to a bear at the zoo, something stirred in the cobwebbed recesses of my memory. Oh yes- I had an idea for a blog post on this very theme some years ago.

A post, with the unexciting title of Reading on Location, was sitting in my draft folder. Having read it, I fully understand why it hadn’t seen the light of day; but, whilst you’re here I may as well share one  anecdote about attempting to read somewhere other than in bed.

Four years ago I felt the need to share with you one of the pitfalls of reading on the beach. I remember the days of reading on a lounger in Lanzarote as the sun warmed my skin and the Vodka with Fanta warmed my liver but little did I know the peril that I was placing my book in. A lifetime later, but still in blissful ignorance, I found myself heading to Llandudno. I decided to take Oliver Jeffers’ How to Catch a Star because of the relevance of the ending. Dunna worry, I won’t ruin it for you. Matt did all the usual beach stuff: chased waves, sniffed seaweed, peed in the sand and when he finally sat down panting I decided we needed some quiet time. We read said book whilst the sun shone down and the seagulls circled above. It was a lovely moment  but instead of sitting and enjoying it I decided to grab my camera from my bag and capture it for you. However when I turned back the moment had gone. Matt was now digging in the sand. With a book shaped spade. I was fairly new to being surprised/disappointed by his (now their) behaviour so I was quite perturbed. The book was shaken and I was stirred. The poor book was put away and I declared to the gulls that their beach would take no more books from me. This recklessness ruined beach reading for me (like I have the time) and ruined this book for Matthew. He refused to read it again seeing as it continues to dispense sand: both annoying and fitting should you know the story. The moral of this delightful anecdote is that children’s books and beaches do not mix. Extreme read with caution, dear friends. Also, and more importantly, that what has been lying dormant in your draft pile for four years should probably stay there.

Let’s fast forward to the future and recognise that I am a tad more breezy about reading on location now. You’ll be thrilled to know that I am a much more flexible (blasé) and chilled (lazy) kind of parent now. It is also mainly because I have learned to only take B list books on location now. This Summer I kept books for the children in the car so we were ready for any extreme adventures that came our way. (Obviously I always have my own emergency paperback in the car door pocket/compartment/thing-that-really-should-have-its-own-name should a reading opportunity occur.) The problem was that I could not decide how to define ‘extreme’ so I went for various interpretations as you will now see (assuming you’re still with me and that you intend to stay committed).      

First and foremost, I decided that extreme meant daring. Surely kids on a crocodile nails daring? And, moreover, we latterly found a sign saying Do Not Climb on the sculptures. To be fair it did not say Do Not Read on them.

 

Crocodile Dudlee (I am howling in laughter at this pun, Do join in).

If we take extreme to mean fast, thrilling, and generating vast amounts of evil static, this photo could top your board.

 

What Dot would describe as Bear in a Nunnel

If you believe that extreme means reading at high altitude with a man’s hand supporting your bottom then you would have to go a long way to beat this one.

 

Thank you to the man with the hand.

How about extremely cool? Reading a book about Gerrard at the cinema whilst waiting for a film to start.

Totally chilled

And how about extremely risky? A toddler, a book, and a puddle? See, I told you I was much more relaxed in my approach to parenting and books now.

Not my house...yet.

Ultimately we decided that extreme means unusual, dangerous, and big. So, the entry for the school project was Matt on a machine at the other parent’s work.

 

Grab a book! That's a most hilarious joke if you're in the scrap trade.

Oh indeed it has been fun photographing the wee ones with books in random places but I am not sure we could call it a successful reading challenge. Surely the challenge is not about getting your child to hold a book for a photo but to actually read it. In this respect, I am pleased to report that we have achieved the improbable mission. Allow me to introduce two children who are spontaneously and simultaneously reading. If we take extreme to mean rare and fleeting then this is it. It might not be the most thrilling photo but it was worth capturing.

The secret is to take your children to a pub with no Wifi- I can fully recommend deepest, darkest Scotland.

Following on from this, the absolute highlight of my summer was the fact that Matt read an entire book to himself on holiday. He didn’t read to be photographed, he was not being coerced into doing his homework, and he wasn’t trying to collect stickers from the library. He read and he read with a passion because he found a book that he liked. The such and such Storey Treehouse series amuse him like few other books. He loves them and I am glad he reads them on his own. Matt finding joy in a book when there was WIFI, a TV in his holiday bedroom, and Mum available for endless football, was pretty unique.   If we take extreme to mean impressive, uncharacteristic, and the pinnacle of all of your experiences to date, then this must be it. This development surpasses all of our reading objectives. The problem however is that although I did photograph this phenomena Matt has claimed editorial rights and won’t let it be published because I need to “respect his privatcy”. To be unable to provide photographic evidence is pretty vexing but maybe Matt has got the whole point. Reading is not something to be performed. It is not a gimic or a competition. It is not Instagram fodder. Reading is about building a personal connection to books. Matt is now the one selecting texts, creating relationships, and seeking opportunities to read. Surely, one of the most important and satisfying milestones in a child's reading journey is the point at which they read for the sake of reading. It has taken a while but I think we are finally at a place where Matt does read for the sheer pleasure of reading. My work here is done.