As a little girl, I grew up surrounded by good kinds of books. Since then, I tried my best to read books that fueled my curiosity up higher. While I was a freshman in high school, my mother brought back home old novels. I asked her where she got them from and she said, "I got them from our hospitals old library. They were giving out some of these books. I thought you might enjoy them so I took some for you." And the books that my mother gave me were actually really really old school. To be more specific, they were novels that I've never heard of.

I got exited seeing all these novels because of its cover pages. I never thought that I would grow in love with horror stuff until I've read R. L. Stine's Ghost of Fear Street "Eye of the Fortuneteller" for the first time. It scared me of course but at the same time I was rooting for the survival of Kelsey. In short, I loved how sir Stine wrote his characters because they all felt genuinely like me, a curious kid. Whenever I read his novels, it always feels that your along with the character's struggle to escape or even be with the monsters. I even remember bringing the books to school and gained two good friends because of it. We would swap R. L. Stine books that we had and we would read it  for a day or, two to three days tops and we would talk about it. It sort of became an unofficial R. L. Stine Book Club and it really was because we were having so much fun with it that other kids in our class just couldn't get all our fuss was about ^_^

Right now, I'm kind of exhausted in college, but I've never lost the fascination for R. L. Stine, not even for Nancy Drew, or Hardy Boys. I still reread them and buy their other novels as well and they still keep me feel happy and satisfied and I think its probably because of the adventures that I experience with them. They remind me of my childhood, good and bad, and there is still this feeling of wanting to read them again and again whenever I see them seducing me from my bookshelf.