NEVER TOO young to start reading

IT’S BATHTIME BLISS FOR KERRE’S FOURMONTH-OLD GRANDSON, THANKS TO A BOOK

Adear friend and I caught up recently and, as I am wont to do these days, I was showing her the latest photos of my grandson Bart. I promise I’m not one of those grandmothers who will hold strangers to ransom, forcing them to admire endless photos of their grandchildren.

Clare is one of my oldest friends and had asked to see the latest photos. In one, Bart was in the bath, in a fancyschmancy pod-type of thing that allows him to sit independently.

He was holding a book in his hands, gazing at it intently. He really did look like he was “reading” his book. When I asked his mother Kate about it, she said it was a book made especially for bathtime and the bright illustrations changed colour in the water.

Of the many photos of my beautiful wee boy, I think that’s my favourite because it means he’s developing a love of books.

When I was in London, learning to be a nana, I bought some special books for newborns that were supposed to help them focus. They were black and white geometric shapes and swirls. I was dubious but Bart was fascinated by them.

Even at a couple of weeks old, he would lie there, the book propped up next to him and there was no doubt he was looking at them, absolutely fascinated. His mum and dad read him stories every night, and if Bart turns out to be a reader, that will be one of the greatest gifts his parents could give him.

Clare and I were talking about the books our children loved as little ones and the books we still love today. And I was reminded just how important books have been throughout my life.

The very first piece of writing I had published was in the New Zealand Herald’s children’s pages when I was eight – and with the earnings, I bought a book that I still have today.

Although I didn’t go to university until I was an adult, I was able to keep up with my more erudite colleagues in journalism by reading voraciously. I devoured biographies of influential world figures, histories and endless novels. I remember the very day that Kate could actually read, not just pick out letters that she recognised or repeat words by rote.

We were snuggled together on a big chair, in our flat in Wellington, and I opened the cover and it was as if an electric shock ran through her. “Mum,” she cried, eyes wide with excitement. “I can read!”

And so she could, and she’s never stopped. I was reading a book in a bar the night

I met my future husband.

I’d finished work on the radio at midnight and had called into my local for a glass of red wine, and had brought a novel along to keep me company.

Tom had never seen anyone reading a book in a bar before and he was intrigued, and 20 years later, we’re still together. One of the first presents he ever gave me was a book of poetry.

It’s not just reading books that’s been so important in my life – I wrote one too. Short Fat

Chick to Marathon Runner was the story of how I ran my first marathon and, 10 years after the book was published, women are still coming up to me, giving me a hug and thanking me for the inspiration that was the catalyst for them achieving their own amazing goals.

And one of my greatest pleasures is to lie back in a hot bath with a good book.

So, yes. Bart may only be four months but books are a huge part of his young life. One of my most fervent wishes for him is that he stays a reader for life.

‘If Bart turns out to be a reader, it will be one of the greatest gifts his parents could give him’