So, after leaving school my first job was with WH Smith in Newport, South Wales packing books to be shipped out to newsagents etc. Completely surround by every type of book you can imagine, and which one caught my attention? Not one of them.
I was still very unsure about most things and was content just to 'potter' along quietly without the urge to expand my mind.
After numerous other dead end jobs, meeting my (future) wife and realising I wanted a job that was interesting and had some sort of future, I became a carpenter. One day, when working on a building site in Cwmbran, I noticed one of the guys always had his head buried in a book. 'Whats that' says I. 'The Hobbit' he said. 'The Hobbit? - whats that about?' was my obvious next question. When he told me I thought - OK, this guy needs to grow up - dwarves and elves sounds like a kids fairy story - and I told him so.
Luckily, he did not take offense at my ignorance and explained how Tolkien had written it as a story for his children, but it was also a great story for kids of all ages. I still wasn't convinced and told him so. In good old fashioned style, he dared me to read it and still call it just a kids book, so he lent me his copy. The consequence of that dare changed my reading habits from that point on. Once I started I found I could not put it down.
It showed me what a vivid imagination could do without boundaries. Needless to say I ended up buying a copy of my own. You know what comes next - once I found out that The Lord of The Rings was a continuation of the story, I had to have it. Never have I enjoyed escapism more. I'll talk more about that next time.