Random musings on the books in my life

I’ve mentioned I had an…untraditional childhood. We were Jesus people. Hardcore believers. When you’re on the edges of the fundamentalist Christian movement, you don’t allow secular entertainment in your home. Our music was Christian, our movies, our tv shows and our books were carefully monitored to block the path of Satan into our hearts. It wasn’t an issue most of the time, and most of what we were allowed to do was just good, wholesome kid stuff. Little House On The Prairie was big, The Chronicles of Narnia, of course, Louisa May Alcott, Frances Hodgeson Burnett, L.M. Montgomery. These were my love and my escape.

We left the church after my 5th grade year. I started middle school and began to wade into the pool of secularism. I was 11 or 12, and naive as hell. I don’t remember each specific step out of the world of Jesus. It was a gradual thing, coinciding with a new school and puberty. Lots of changes were happening and the details have faded. Except my first horror novel, The Shining by Stephen King.
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