September Editor Letter, Hock Literary Post
The Garden of Stories: Cultivating a Lifelong Love of Reading
How does a love of reading truly begin? Is it
something we teach, or something we nurture? Is it a lesson to be learned, or a
magic to be unlocked?
Here at Hollyhock Books, we believe it is the latter.
We see a child’s mind not as a vessel to be filled with facts, but as a garden.
A garden where, with the right care, the seeds of stories can take root,
unfurling into a lifelong landscape of wonder, empathy, and curiosity. But
every gardener knows that a plant cannot be forced to grow; it must be given
the right conditions—sunlight, water, and rich soil.
The question so many loving parents ask is, "How
do I get my child to love reading?" And often, the well-intentioned answer
involves a system of rewards. Finish this book, and you get a treat. Read for
twenty minutes, and you earn screen time. On the surface, it makes perfect
sense. But what if the greatest reward is not something we give after the book,
but something found within the book itself?
Let us explore the delicate art of encouragement, and
imagine a path that leads not just to a child who reads, but to a child who
loves to read.
The Well-Intentioned Path: The Allure of External
Rewards
It is a scene played out in many homes. A child is
slumped at the kitchen table, a book lying closed before them like a dormant
creature. A parent encourages, “Just read this chapter, and then you can have
ice cream.” Or perhaps, “If you finish this book by Friday, I’ll buy you that
new video game.”
The logic is sound. We use rewards to motivate
ourselves all the time. We work towards a promotion, we exercise for the reward
of feeling healthy, we complete a task for the satisfaction of checking it off
a list. It seems natural to apply this same structure to reading, especially
when a child is reluctant.
The immediate result can seem positive. The child
opens the book. The pages are turned. The reading log is signed. The reward is
given. Success! And in the short term, it is. The child has read.
But what has truly been nurtured in that transaction?
Has the child connected with the story of the runaway pig, felt their heart
beat faster as the glitter dragon faced its challenge, or sighed with
contentment when the clock-tower girl found her friend? Or have they simply
learned to endure the act of reading as the price to pay for a scoop of
chocolate chip?
This is the hidden danger of purely external rewards:
they can accidentally teach a child that reading is a chore, a bitter medicine
that must be swallowed to get to the sweet prize. The focus shifts from the
intrinsic joy of the journey to the extrinsic prize at the finish line. The
book becomes an obstacle, not a gateway.
A Different Kind of Reward: Weaving Magic into the
Reading Ritual
So, if we move away from sticker charts and sweet
treats, what is the alternative? It is to transform the entire experience of
reading from a task into a treasure hunt, where the rewards are woven into the
fabric of the story itself.
The greatest reward for reading a book is the book
itself—the adventure, the friendship, the knowledge, the escape. Our job as
parents, grandparents, and storytellers is to be the guides who help children
discover this treasure. We must become the magicians who reveal the magic
hidden within the pages.
This begins long before a child can read a single
word. It begins in the warmth of a lap, the sound of a voice bringing
characters to life, the shared laughter over a funny illustration. The first
and most powerful reward we can ever give a child is our undivided attention,
with a story as its conduit.
As children grow older, the rewards evolve, but they
should always serve to deepen the connection to the story, not sever it.
Instead of rewarding the completion of a book, we can reward the engagement
with it.
Here are a few ways to make the reading experience its
own reward:
The Reward of Connection: After reading a chapter
together, become the characters. Act out a scene over dinner. Put on a play for
the stuffed animals. This rewards the child with the joy of shared imagination
and play.
The Reward of Exploration: If you’re reading a book
about dragons, the reward could be a trip to a natural history museum to look
at dinosaur skeletons, or a afternoon crafting your own dragon from clay and
glitter. This rewards the child by expanding the world of the story into their
own.
The Reward of Anticipation: Create a
"Storytelling Nook"—a special fort of blankets and pillows that is
only used for reading. The act of building the nook and settling in with a book
becomes the coveted event, a ritual of comfort and wonder.
The Reward of Being an Expert: When a child finishes a
book, let them be the authority. Ask them to tell you the story. Listen, rapt,
as they recount the plot. Ask their opinion: "Was the ending fair?"
"What would you have done?" This rewards them with a sense of mastery
and intellectual confidence.
The goal is to make the world inside the book feel as
real and exciting as the world outside of it. When we succeed, the desire to
read comes from within, a natural hunger to return to that world of wonder.
The Thoughtful Approach: The Essay as an Act of Love
Now, let us turn to the specific suggestion posed:
rewarding a child with a book, then having them write an essay about it,
followed by a "wonderful" reward.
At first glance, to a child, this might sound like a
school assignment followed by a bribe. But what if we reframed it? What if we
transformed this process from a transactional chore into a creative
celebration? The spirit of this idea is beautiful—it seeks to encourage deep
engagement and reflection. Let us weave it with the Hollyhock philosophy.
The word "essay" can feel formal and
daunting. It conjures images of five paragraphs, thesis statements, and red pen
marks. But an essay, at its heart, is simply a person trying to figure out what
they think about something. It is a conversation with oneself, made tangible.
For a child, we must banish the word "essay"
and replace it with the magic of being a "Story Catcher."
Step One: The Gift of the Book (The First Reward)
This is a sacred moment. Do not simply hand over a
book. Present it. Wrap it. Tell them why you chose this story for them. "I
saw this book about a wild garden, and it made me think of your adventurous
spirit." Or, "This tale of a girl who solves mysteries reminded me of
how curious you are." You are not just giving them a story; you are giving
them a mirror, showing them you see their soul. The book itself is the first
reward—a token of your understanding and love.
Step Two: The Act of "Catching the Story"
(The Deep Engagement)
When the final page is turned and the quiet wonder of
the story settles, do not say, "Now, write an essay." Instead, invite
them on a new adventure. Say, "Let's catch that story before it flutters
away! Let's be Story Catchers."
The goal is not to test their comprehension, but to
give their feelings and thoughts a form. This can be done in a hundred ways far
more enchanting than a formal essay:
The Letter: "Why don't you write a letter to the
main character? What would you want to ask them? What advice would you give
them?"
The Map: "Could you draw a map of the story's
world? Show me the path the hero took, and don't forget the secret
places!"
The Front Page: "Let's make a newspaper front
page from the world of the book! The headline could be 'GLITTER DRAGON SAVES
THE DAY!' You can write an interview with the dragon and draw a picture."
The Playlist: "If this book were a movie, what
five songs would be on the soundtrack? Why did you choose each one?"
The Diary Entry: "What if you wrote a diary entry
from the point of view of the runaway pig the night before his big adventure?
What was he feeling?"
In each of these activities, the child is doing the
critical work of reflection—analyzing plot, understanding character motivation,
exploring theme—but they are doing it as an artist, a journalist, a friend.
They are not writing for a grade; they are creating to honour a story they have
loved. This act of creation is, in itself, a profound reward. It makes the
story a permanent part of them.
Step Three: The "Wonderful Something" (The
Culminating Celebration)
Once this act of creation is complete—the letter is
written, the map is drawn, the playlist is curated—it is time for the
culminating reward. This is crucial. The reward must not be a payment for
services rendered, but a celebration of the journey you have just taken
together.
The reward should be an experience that extends the
magic of the story and the bond you've forged through it.
The reward is not for writing the essay; it is for
sharing the adventure.
Here is how to make that "something
wonderful" truly meaningful:
If the book was about a chef, the reward could be
baking a recipe from the story (or inventing a new one together).
If the book was about an explorer, the reward could be
a family hike to a new park, pretending you are the characters on your next
great quest.
If the book was about music, the reward could be a
living room dance party to the playlist the child created.
If the book was about art, the reward could be a trip
to an art supply store to choose a new medium to work with, just like the
character in the story.
The most powerful reward of all, however, is often the
simplest: the gift of the next story. A trip to a real, dusty, wonderful
bookstore or a library, where you can spend an hour together exploring the
shelves, is a reward that keeps the entire beautiful cycle turning. You are
rewarding their deep engagement with the promise of more adventure to come.
The Story Never Ends: Weaving a Tapestry of Literary
Love
Getting a child to love reading is not a program to be
implemented, but a culture to be built within a family. It is built in the
quiet moments, the shared laughs, the thoughtful conversations, and the
celebratory adventures that spring from the pages of a book.
The method of "Book -> Reflection ->
Celebration" is a beautiful framework, provided its heart is in the right
place. The book is a gift of insight, the reflection is an act of creative
love, and the celebration is a shared memory that ties the story to the child's
own life.
At Hollyhock Books, we believe that children deserve
stories that speak to the heart. But they also deserve guides who will help
them listen. By shifting our focus from external rewards to intrinsic joys, we
stop being taskmasters and become fellow travellers. We are no longer just
giving them books; we are giving them keys to countless worlds, and the
confidence to explore them.
So, let us begin this adventure today. Pick a book,
not as an assignment, but as an invitation. Read it with your heart as well as
your eyes. Then, catch that story together in whatever beautiful, messy,
creative way you can. And finally, celebrate. Not because a task is done, but
because a story has been lived.
For in the end, the greatest reward we can ever
give—or receive—is that shared, silent understanding that passes between two
people who have just closed a beloved book, a world of wonder hanging in the
air between them, and the unspoken promise that another story awaits, just on
the other side of tomorrow.


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