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The Books Of Wendi

Updated: Feb 20, 2021


So I’ve read a lot of books in my life. But certain ones have had an impact on my tastes and understanding of the world

Here are my “ This thing changed me” books and the circumstances as to how I felt about them


“Old Yeller”

By, Fred Gipson

When I was in the fifth grade, I had a bizarre fifth grade teacher, we will call her Mrs. Stick. She was bad at teaching, but I was great at learning and because of that she loved me

I’ve read books and written essays and memorized words for fun and I loved class.

Because of that I was considered a teachers pet. everyone got sick of it, including me.

She would always use me as an example to other kids, and I feel bad now thinking how my classmates must’ve felt when the teacher would hold up my grades like she was gonna frame them. Even my bad grades she would wave as though I had shamed her.

She also gave intense amount of work

I mean I was assigned to a single spaced essay on George W. Bush. I did it, but it went easier because as I learned more about him and researched him at ten years old, I decided I hated that president.

Thing is it’s easy to write when it’s backed by emotion and my essay ended up being powerful and once again it was held above the other students.

I actually felt proud, I’d worked hard on it.

She was mean to everyone but she was nice to me.

Since I loved reading, everytime we were assigned a book to read i would read it ahead of the class. But it wasn’t like that with one book she assigned. There was one book I read what I was supposed to and not ahead of.

That was the book “ Old Yeller”

I was loving it

Each day we’d discuss the chapter we’d been assigned to the night before to read. My other classmates were getting into it, too.

It was like we were learning for ourselves.

Then came the end

It was the night we were to read the chapter before the last bit. I was reading it and I was shocked. When I finished the amount I was supposed to read, I broke my promise. I’d promised myself to not read ahead because I enjoyed the discussions during class

But dread filled me and filled me more as I read the last bit ahead of my classmates, and it was like an emotional kick in the gut.

The next day came, and the class was quiet. They started discussing different happy endings that could happen and everyone was filled with doubt and confusion

Except me

So when everyone was speculating, I couldn’t take it.

I burst

I started To bawl, I hadn’t cried this bad from a book Yet.

I was so broken about it.

I had had people in my life die

Old Yeller was my introduction to questioning death, especially of a pet. It hit a chord in me and I lost it.

Soon the day was over and so were my tears

I became a little numb from it, and even the numbness from them sits with me today when I think about the book. It reminds me how this book changed me.

It changed me because it hurt

“The miraculous journey of Edward Tulane”

By, Kate DiCamillo

In the fourth grade I had an amazing teacher, we will call her Mrs. Shawl. She was amazing and she would read books aloud to us all the time. She treated us like adults and all as equals. One book she read was called The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. It was about a beautiful porcelain bunny. He gets lost and on his journey he learns what love is, and the depth of love is deep whether you deny it or not. This book sent me on a roller coaster. It started something in me as a child, a belief. A belief that toys could understand you, also any object. I was nine at the time, and I was still a kid.

I would talk to my toys and dolls

I talked to inanimate objects

I’d apologize to a door if I slammed it too hard. I would ask the microwave to be careful. In my head everything had feelings and everything was aware

Now, I’m not like this anymore

The idea as a kid and imagining it?

It was actually fun

It got my creative juices flowing like water.

That’s when I started enjoying writing

I wrote stories and all my ideas in a book I called my Idea book. I’d wanted to build a water park for myself.

I know objects don’t have feelings

it jumpstarted my passion for stories and fiction and nonfiction but not just to read or be read to in class.


I could be the one with the pen in my hand.

For all I knew, maybe I would build a water park, or fly, or move objects with my mind

This book lit the match

The fire of passion and creativity to this day, still burns within me

“The Diary of Anne Frank”

When I was nine I started reading a lot, as mrs shawl would read to us she would treat us with respect to our intelligence even though we were kids. To her we weren’t “ just kids” we were students, her students, and she held the power to teach us. She had respect for the fact that we would learn even outside the classroom and in different ways as well.

I felt that respect

The day I got the book catalog from school I ordered an adult book. It was “ The diary of Anne Frank” and I was so happy I got it

When it arrived I read it in three days

What stood out for me though, wasn’t really just the content. It was the picture on the cover. As I read on, I kept flipping to the cover. This was a kid like me! What’s going on? She sounds like an adult! She’s so smart too!

The horrors of that book made me confused

Each time a conflict was there I’d flip to the cover. Her story was just... wow.

I was old enough to realize as I read on, that Anne Frank didn’t make it out of the house

In fact, when I started to read it I went in with that knowledge.

I learned from that book, that even if you don’t make it in the end, you can have a legacy. You can respect people for themselves even if they are not here anymore, and learn from the pain.

I didn’t cry as I would now, as I didn’t quite understand the concept of death or the Holocaust, the horrors i realize are in it now are impossible to grasp. But, This book taught me the idea of respect for everyone

I saw that photo and my heart broke

This girl is gotten to know so well and respected is gone

I learned from this, about the life and wonderful person that is the great Anne Frank. Her legacy is not lost on me

“ Allegedly”

By, Tiffany D Jackson

This book I read recently. See, sometimes when I read a book I read the last page first. I want to know what happens

Often times knowing the endings of books was what got me to read them in the first place.

This book felt personal. I felt the pain the characters felt the conditions the girl Mary was going through. The pain of a crime she didn’t do.

I read the last page only and I was happy to see it all worked out

That is until I got to the page before the last

The character Mary was the narrator, and you root for her to absolve her of her criminal history she didn’t have.

Or so you think

I was hoping that then end worked well

And when I read and figured out she was lying to us the entire time and did the crime and was manipulative even to us readers, I was shocked

This novel changed me and the way I read, because even when you think you know everything, looking at the end had the potential to be not what it seems

It shocked me

The lesson was strong weighing me

Don’t believe everything you read