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I was fortunate to have grown up in a household in which reading was expected and encouraged. I remember my parents reading to me and my younger brother, frequent trips to the library, books as gifts for every birthday. I was impatient to learn to read for myself. My mother recalls that I came home from the first day of first grade in tears because we hadn't starting learning to read yet. I do remember the very first reading lesson, in which the words "I," "the" and "is" were introduced. There was a philosophy of memorization of common words first followed by phonics-based learning of more complex words. I don't know what program was used, but I thought the stories used in lessons were weird and stupid. Why would a kid have a pet mink?! We got points for reading the supplementary picture books that were part of the reading program, and could trade those points in for prizes like stickers and pencils. I ended up with a lot of stickers. At some point I finished *all* of the supplementary books and my teacher, in exasperation, sent me off to the school library to write my own stories. I wrote and illustrated an epic tale about my budgie Polly and her buddy Keeta, which was displayed in the library. I just about burst from pride!
My first SF book was "My Teacher is an Alien" by Bruce Coville, which I think I received as a gift in third grade. I was hooked for life, and pestered the school librarian for more books like it.
My first "grown-up" book was Dragons of Autumn Twilight, which I read when I was 10. Not exactly fine literature, but it was entertaining and it was the longest book I'd read at that point. It's what got me interested in fantasy beyond the fairy tale books that most kids grow up with.
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