My Son the reader.

Several years ago I had the crazy idea to write a book for each of my two children. I wanted to give them each something very personal which had taken a lot of effort to create. Something special. A tiny piece of my heart and soul that they could always carry with them through life, whether physically or mentally. Something which would arm them with ideas, memories, inspiration.... should the need arise.
After deciding on a fantasy epic in which the main characters would be easily identifiable as representations of my Jack and Sophie (Jake West shares my son's initials and physicality's/Princess Zephany I thought was close enough to Sophie in name and spirit), the rest came easily.
Far too easily as it turns out for an unplanned third instalment soon had to be penned in order to complete the story.
.....Anyway, the point? Well, after years of suggestions, hints, bribery etc. a few weeks ago my now teenage son suddenly decided out of the blue that he was going to actually put his phone and Xbox down long enough to read them!
Chuffed? I don't think I've been that happy since Villa were promoted back to the Premier league.
And so it began. The nail-biting wait to hear what he thought. Absolutely nobody's opinion to date has mattered to me more.
In the end I needn't have worried. He flew through them with lightning speed and gusto. As my wife will testify he could often be seen reading well past midnight..... On a school night too I might add. And this from a lad who usually reads an average of one book every two months.
His verdict? He loved them. He actually reviewed them in a recent English exam.
It's something really quite extraordinary when your 15 year old says he has become your biggest fan.
I suppose now I need to continue working on Sophie?!
You never know.