The Knife Of Never Letting Go Analysis

Being in the Fifth grade meant being in a new school. And I didn’t really know many people. I was somewhat shy and wasn’t the best at making new friends. It wasn’t until about halfway through the fifth grade when my class got switched to Mr. Larson’s English class; before then I wouldn’t have thought reading would become such a big part of my life. I was offered to get involved with a English class that was more advanced than a regular class, but not as advanced as the honors English class. This is the class Mr. Larson taught. He saw me reading a somewhat large book that consisted of about four hundred pages. Usually I wouldn’t get involved with such large books but I got it for Christmas so I felt obligated to read it. He was interested in the title, which was “The Knife of Never Letting Go” by Patrick Ness. He asked if he could read it once I finished it. So when I finished the book I let him borrow the book and he really enjoyed it. The book had a really huge cliffhanger, since it was a trilogy. We talked about how the suspense was killing us and eventually for my birthday I got the next book and so once I finished it, I let Mr. Larson read it, once again. This led to us sharing books with each other all
the time. It was fun for me, and Mr. Larson became one of my first friends that was a teacher. It was great having someone that made reading something I loved to do. Before the fifth grade the only way I would read was through my mom forcing me to.
We would sit on the floor beside my bed and I would either listen, or I’d be the one doing the reading and my mom would be the one listening. Reading felt more like a chore rather than something I would sit down and enjoy. And as a young child, reading wasn’t really that easy for me. There was times when I would struggle to say words correctly, or even times when I couldn’t even attempt at saying that word because I had no idea. I can remember a time when I got frustrated; I was struggling to finish a sentence and my mom finished the sentence for me. Well, for me, I was still figuring it out in my mind and felt that I didn’t need help. I yelled at my mother and got sent to
bed. Reading was easier once I got older given that I was able to read easily, and also with the inspiration from Mr. Larson. With the environment I was in, reading felt right. I wasn’t involved with the honors classes as much as I would eventually be. And since It was a new school, I wasn’t hanging out with very many friends after school and such. I think the environment pushed me to read because as grew older I started to slowly lose my love for reading again. In seventh and eighth grade I did have a lot more to do, which meant less time for reading. And eventually, specifically when I got into highschool I wouldn’t read unless I had to for my English classes.