Virginia Hume is a freelance writer and editor whose debut novel, HAVEN POINT, releases on June 8th. The book explores what it means to belong to a place, and to a family, that holds as tightly to its traditions as it does its secrets. Virginia’s mother enjoys reading all kinds of fiction, and it was her willingness to branch out and explore different genres that inspired a young Virginia to do the same. Had it not been for her mother’s love of literature, she doubts she would have developed a passion for reading that eventually led to her writing career. Virginia has adopted this enthusiastic, non-judgmental approach with her own daughters, who are now in college but grew up in a household where there were no “guilty pleasures” when it came to books.
When I was young and asked my mom to buy me something at a store, the answer, with one exception, was no. A nice no –-- sympathetic, even! --- but a firm no. The exception? Books. Mind you, she didn’t always say yes to books. Sometimes, though, she did.
I now see the brilliant dual purpose in her strategy. Consistency is a great deterrent to wheedling. I was not a whiny kid, but if I thought I had a chance at success, I was capable of, shall we say…tenacity. While I’m sure I still asked for some toy or gadget at a store occasionally (smart to stress test the policy from time to time, just to see if there’s been an unannounced change), once my mom said no, I dropped it. No point in wasting a good wheedle on a futile exercise.
Her exception to the rule also sent a powerful signal. There’s a lot of daylight between “never” and “sometimes.” And in applying the latter to books, she told her children that books were different, more worthy --- a message she reinforced in countless ways by reading to us, talking about books, taking us to the library, and filling our house with books.
I was a daydreamy kid, often lost in my own world. It was not enough to read the Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew or Little House on the Prairie. I wanted to be a Bobbsey Twin, Nancy Drew or Laura Ingalls --- a tendency my mother fully embraced. (To wit: here I am, Laura Ingalls fangirl, on school picture day). She never looked down on rereading favorite books either. One August, when we were on vacation in Vermont, I found an old book called CHAMPLAIN SUMMER at the library, a typical 1950s malt shop “junior novel.” I read it several times during that vacation, and for years after I returned to the library every summer to check it out again.
“Oh, good,” my mom would say. “You found your favorite!”
My appreciation for my mom’s unpretentious attitude toward reading only grew as I got older. She enjoyed literary fiction, and while she was impatient with bad writing, she thoroughly enjoyed genre fiction, too. Books were better than anything, but she never suggested one type of book was better than another. I don’t recall her ever using the expression “guilty pleasure,” because why would anyone feel guilty about reading?
If she had anointed some category of books as superior, I doubt I’d have pulled books off my parents’ shelves as often as I did. As it was, I frequently availed myself of their collection. At a young age, I spent hours enjoying writers like John Irving, Colleen McCullough, Erma Bombeck, James Thurber, Mary Stewart and John Cheever.
I did my best to adopt my mother’s approach with my daughters, who are now in college. (With a slight modification of the store policy --- when my girls asked for something, I’d reply, in a tone of sympathetic regret, “That’s for somebody else.” This worked for YEARS before they finally started asking who this “somebody else” was who got all the good stuff!). Books were the exception to the rule in our house too.
Without my mother’s upbeat, non-judgmental approach, I doubt I would have fallen in love with reading. Had that not come to pass, I would not have become a writer. My mom and I still talk books. She was an early reader of my debut novel, HAVEN POINT, and her support and enthusiasm helped encourage me to see the project through to completion.
Proof, if it were needed, that a mom is a mom forever.
