This little boy had never particularly enjoyed colouring or drawing.
He’s still not a fan of colouring books, in fact he is never really quite sure what to do with them. He’ll scribble on them a little, make a half-hearted attempt at filling in the designated colour areas and then push the entire thing aside. Drawing is another matter though. He’s started creating line diagrams of the things that he loves. The drawings themselves are usually minimally rendered, but meticulously labelled.
He tells me that he doesn’t like to read, the books that are for his level are “too boring”. Truly, I can see where he’s coming from. The quality of books written for children varies so wildly, he’s often found himself captivated by beautiful illustrations only to bring the book home from school for reading practice and find himself disappointed by a lackluster story.
He does, however, love to write. From little annotations on his drawings, through to books of his very own creation. He created his very own Mr Men character a few weeks ago: we folded some paper to make a book, wrote the story (paying careful attention to the exact construction of the story in a real Mr Men book) and illustrated it himself. It’s interesting to me how someone who so fiercely claims to hate reading books can get so much enjoyment from writing stories of his own.