Seeing as it's #WorldBookDay2021 here's a few rambling observations on my relationship with books/reading
The first books that I remember loving enough to read under the covers and by the light of the streetlamps were The Hardy Boys collection. My Aunt Grainne would buy me a new one every few weeks and leave it under my pillow as a surprise, dated and signed by herself.
When I was around 8 I had a nature/wildlife obsessed teacher in primary school who I'm pretty sure ignored the rest of the curriculum.
He was inspiring about his single subject and often gave us very technical, wordy, adult books about some species of birds or whatever