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Reading has always played an important role in my life, specifically during difficult and challenging times. As a child, I liked to observe my mother reading fiction stories about past times, love, and adventure. I remember how my mother turned page after page of the book sitting in a big cozy armchair silently for hours. Sometimes, I asked her to read aloud some passages from those literary works. Being five or six years old, I could not imagine what held her interest. It was hard for me to understand how my mother could sustain concentration and continuously sit in that chair. Nowadays, when I have grown up, I comprehend how captivating and attracting literature can be because, similar to my mother, I enjoy reading fiction. I prefer fiction because it opens another world and completely different reality. In fact, fiction literary works allow me to develop my imagination. Nevertheless, the world of scholarly texts opened to me one day.
A few days ago, I stood up very early and went down the stairs to the kitchen. The sun only began to rise and the entire house continued sleeping in the silence. Sitting in the kitchen alone and drinking orange juice, I started to ponder on the issue that disturbed me for a long time. Most of my friends and peers were engaged in the activities that brought them satisfaction and pleasure. Some of them played basketball whereas the others took part in dancing classes or art courses. What was of more importance, almost all of them knew what they would do in their life, what major they would like to choose, and for what occupation they wanted to apply. The fact that I did not know what I should do with my life oppressed me. There were days when this feeling of despair and hopelessness covered me and I did not know what to do. Although I liked literature, writing, and art, I also enjoyed everything I have participated in before. For me, it was almost a torture to choose something because I could not single out the area in which I would be able to express my strengths and potential.
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Pondering on this crucial issue for a couple of minutes, I decided to distract from those onerous thoughts. Accidentally, I saw a pile of newspapers and journals my father used to read. While the reading was the only thing that diverted me from the heavy thoughts and problems of the everyday life, I took a couple of those journals and began to look through them. I turned one page after another looking at sophisticated headings and important themes of those works. Then, a critical article about Kate Chopin's short stories caught my attention and I started to read it.
I admired the creativity of Chopin, her feminist themes, and topical problems she discussed in her narratives. Thus, the particular article captured my mind from the first words and it was hard for me to break away from reading. When I finished that critical review of Chopin's creativity, the great truth opened to me. I understood that I would like to write such critical analysis and reviews by myself. The language of the author, the style of writing, and her critical opinion about Chopin's works evoked the strong desire to create something similar. Thus, it was a stimulus for me to read scholarly texts to find more interesting and thought-provoking information about the literature.
That moment has been a significant revelation about the role reading plays right now in my life because it has shown me the direction in which I want to move. Today, I read not only fiction works but also critical reviews and analyses of writers and their literary books to develop my understanding of criticism and practice my skills in writing.
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