After watching the fun but lightweight film Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightening Thief I was rather humbled by the fact my daughter knew so much more Greek mythology than I (I also laughed MUCHLY at the kind of erotic overtones of Pierece Brosnan playing a centaur, ladies you know what I’m saying?). I’d been prepared to put the film behind us but my brother’s lady J. suggested we look into the book series. I checked out the first from the library (same-day service, thank you Lisa!) and told my daughter I could read it to her. She immediately cracked it and stuck it in her face and didn’t look up until she’d finished it including not even letting me borrow it for one second to see if I’d like reading it, too.
This was Phoenix, for the twelve hours after the book got into her little hands. When she woke the next morning she got right back to it until she finished it (note: she is simultaneously reading while removing a kitten from her neck):
I was a voracious reader myself as a girl; although I don’t remember getting my hrrdcore Book Nrrd chops until age 10. Phoenix outstrips me easily.