Do you remember being nine years old? Eleven? Even fourteen?
When you were that age, and you heard the words ‘summer reading,’ how did they make you feel?
Did they bring about a sense of excitement or maybe even relief? Were you allured by the suggestion that you were free to read whatever you liked, whenever you chose, as quickly or as slowly as you were able?
Or were you more like me?
I was a kid who reviled the idea of ‘summer reading’. I hated that the specter of school could still have power over me during vacation.
To me, ‘summer reading’ meant randomly picking a handful of titles from a pre-approved list of bone-dry chapter books. With jagged, shaky handwriting, I would record the titles in a spiral notebook— one that would need to be turned in to my teacher at the end of my “vacation.” But how could I have a real vacation with something like this hanging over my head?
The summer reading notebook would sit threateningly on a shelf in my bedroom until the dog days of the season. In the final weeks of vacation, it would begin to appear at the breakfast table, at the bottom of my backpack, or on the foot of the stairs.
“Don’t you want to write about what you read this summer?” My mom would ask me.
No. No, I didn’t. I wanted to be left alone.
I wanted the freedom to read as little or as much as I wanted. And I wanted the flexibility to read things without feeling rushed…without the need to respond. I wanted to read slowly without any strings attached.
At the time, my diagnosis of SLD-Reading (Specific Learning Disability in Reading) was not exactly framed in an encouraging way. Having a form of neurodivergence felt more like a deficit than a difference. As a result, structures like ‘summer reading’ were a source of deep anxiety for nine-year-old me. Still, I read. And, though my entries in the spiral notebook were sparse and mostly composed in the final days of summer, they were a helpful reminder of what I liked about stories in general. The best was when I forgot that the reading was assigned in the first place.
Today, I’m thankfully free from any accountability structures around reading that aren’t of my own design. I don’t have an approved ‘summer reading list’ but I do have a list of books I’ve been reading this summer. So, from now until the autumnal equinox (September 23rd in case you were wondering) I’ll be popping up with some new offerings that will pair current titles with books from my childhood summer reading lists. These pairings will be based on…nothing…everything…themes?…format?…I’ll figure it out. Whatever it ends up being, it’ll be enjoyable because, damnit, reading in the summer should be fun.
Consider this my official rebranding of the summer reading notebook.
What I was reading then:
Amelia’s Notebook by Marissa Moss: Book 1 of this gloriously voicey series is an aesthetic romp through Amelia’s cross country move, away from her best friend Nadine. After reading it, I began to draw noses in the style of Moss’ illustrations. I remember this book being an excellent companion to the 1996 movie version of Harriet the Spy. Reading my old journals from this era, I detect a significant tone shift towards suspicion and sauciness, likely as a result of the Amelia/Harriet influence. If you read the Amelia’s Notebook series, it is also possible that you played the computer game in which you constructed your own virtual journal, complete with animated stickers that were the precursor for what’s now widely available on most photo apps.
Published: 1995
First read by me: 1996 (age eight)
Re-read by me: 2020 (age thirty-one, while recovering from an allergic reaction to a bee sting)
Fake Rating: eight out of twelve Simoleons
What I’m reading now:
What It Is by Lynda Barry: This memoir/creativity guide is the perfect follow-up for grown up Amelia’s Notebook fans. Through illustration and collage, Barry explores questions of perception and reality. She specifically hones in on how our creativity in childhood stems from our pliable sense of what is real. The book is made up of journal prompts and vignettes of personal narrative that track the author’s journey as an artist, as well as her loss and reclamation of her belief in magic.
Published: 2008
First read by me: Spring 2023 (age thirty-four)
Re-read by me: Summer 2023 (same)
Fake rating: Nine out of ten Simoleons