I was allowed to read at the table if I was eating by myself, but not at family meals.

I picked up love of books at home. Both my parents read a lot, and some of my earliest memories are of my mother taking me to the library, and the vaguely musty book-smell, and having to stand on tiptoe to place my books on the check-out counter.

My parents still don't like when we read at the table. Though I suspect newpapers might get a pass. Table's for either eating or talking. Growing up in Jamaica, eating in front of the TV wasn't really an issue. We did have one house in England with a TV in the kitchen, and that was tolerated.

We were never allowed to read at the table. It wasn't even an issue, or something I'd try to sneak by -- it was something that was just Not Done.

My mother doesn't even like us to do it now, when we're alone.

I hated read-a-thons too; you got sponsored for a certain amount per book, which favoured those who were still reading picture books over those of us who were reading 300-page novels! I always found that most unfair. And I resent to this day the idea that reading more = reading better.

I've been reading longer than I can remember. I got my first book of mythology when I was 4 (I think I still have it, but it's probably at mother and dad's place in the basement). I was on novels by the time I hit 5. Read Hitchhiker's Guide for the first time when I was 7 or 8.

My parents have no room to talk to me about how many books I have (I've never once been asked by anyone if I'd read all those books), as they have many, many more. Plus magazines. I expect the shelves to collapse at any time, based on the amount of sagging from overload. (They have pretty narrow interests, though, which is why I spent huge amounts of time reading natural history texts, science fiction, and nursing manuals before they started letting me choose my own books at the library.)

The only times I can recall being told not to read was when I was being punished for something. Long drives? Need me to be quiet? Hand me a book. Or two.

At no point growing up did I consider this unusual, which I suppose was a side benefit of being placed in the gifted and talented program with my fellow addicts. (Ah, the joys of trading books after class and learning ALL about sex through Piers Anthony's more adult works. Good times, good times.)

Ah, Literary Conversation #3 -- Childhood Reading Habits.

I nagged my mother to teach me to read, though I'm not sure where I picked up the bug. She insisted on waiting until I turned 4.

My teachers didn't encourage reading so much as they did "work at your own pace." I went to a -- not progressive, but also not quite traditional grade school. My 3rd grade teacher set up a number of stations around the room where you could go when your work was done. Each station had an envelope with a number of slips of paper with ideas for constructive things to do -- one said simply, "Think."

In 6th grade, the school started a new math system that was entirely work-at-your-own-pace. I blew through it and spent the second semester helping to grade papers and tutor other students (mostly in my younger brother's class, which he didn't appreciate -- but that's another story). In reading class, I read ahead -- and ended up well ahead of everyone.

In 7th or 8th grade, the school system started what they called USSR -- Uninterrupted Sustained Silent Reading. Every Friday afternoon, we'd spend half an hour reading something of our own choice. I spent much of the semester on Shelby Foote's history of the Civil War.

After 8th grade, we moved to another school district. My sophomore English teacher gave us all a list of books that some expert/group believed people "should" read to be considered educated. She added Watership Down. She then asked us to read one book off the list (our choice) and discuss with a group.

Oh, and Plei, I learned a whole lot about sex from reading The Godfather.

Hehe, I used to read at the dinner table all the time. My mom was generally ok with it, although it often meant I would sit at the table loooong after dinner was done. I used to have the habit of keeping books around the table that I'd even read before, too- enough to the point that I could open it at and point and know exactly what was going on, so I would just pick it up at dinner, open it anywhere, and start reading.

In 7th or 8th grade, the school system started what they called USSR -- Uninterrupted Sustained Silent Reading.

Hey, we had that, but we just had SSR. I don't remember what grade. There was also RIF (Reading Is Fundamental), from which I got several free books. Mmm, free books. Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher.

My folks were both big readers, as was my older sister. We weren't allowed to read at the table, but everywhere else was fair game. Books were rewards. For example, after a couple of hours of being dragged through the mall to buy clothes I'd get to pick out a new book. This mindset has never really left me.

In fifth grade I had a teacher who made us read as a punishment. Dude. Might as well give me kaluha brownies and gay porn as a reward for being a smartass. Sadly my mom clued her in before I'd gotten through more than one collection of Thurber's short stories.

We never had read-a-thons or the like in my school. Pity.