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My friend and author, Andrea Montalbano texted me this photo of her son a few weeks ago from school pick-up, which, naturally, warmed my heart. A few days earlier, she told me she’d discovered the secret to getting him excited about reading — like voracious reading — and I asked her to share it with you all. Take it away, Andy!

Until recently, my 9 year-old son, William was what I would call an eh reader. Sure, he knew how to read, and he absolutely loved it when I read to him, but his enthusiasm was lukewarm, and getting him to sit with a book on his own was a struggle.

When it came to his nightly assigned reading from school, the struggle became a battle.

His reading level was fine, but his interest level was so low that he ended up with books that were really too basic – like My Weird School – which made him drag out the 30-minute requirement with fifteen trips to the bathroom or fiddling with his timer. He was bored. Then it got worse. I allowed him to start picking books that interested him. Naturally, we immediately ended up in the world of Minecraft. I rationalized his crappy choices by saying to myself As long as he is excited about reading something does it really matter what it is?

Yes, it does.

We reached an all-time low when he tackled some version of Diary of a Wimpy Zombie Named Steve from Minecraft. I might have that title wrong. I’ve tried to block it out.

It was time for action.

Several years ago at a used book sale, I found a pile of white, hard-back books with hokey pictures on their covers. They were part of a series called Great Illustrated Classics that had been published in the 70s and 80s. The titles were impressive – Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm , 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Moby Dick, Tom Sawyer – but the shelf appeal was zero.I bought five or six for my daughter and they had sat in her room untouched, ever since. Until now.

I flipped through a few pages. There were lots of illustrations. I remembered the stories from my high school English classes. They were classics!

It was worth a shot.

Which book to start with? I chose 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea by Jules Verne and invited William to sit with me on the couch so I could read to him. This is always a home run — I’ve read to him nearly every night of his life, until ironically, he learned to do it himself. (That’s a whole ‘nother post!)

We started with the “About the Author” section, and he was interested, but skeptical. But then we were were captured. We went overboard. We met Captain Nemo! (No, not named after the darn Disney fish!) After about three chapters, he stopped me and said, “Mom, just give me the book.”

He was hooked. He plowed through 20,000 Leagues in one day. Next, he dove into Robinson Crusoe. Then we called him Ishmael. We moved on shore to White Fang, Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, Frankenstein and….honestly? I’ve lost count. He started trading with his friends. He brought them to school. He made his teacher happy. He made his mother very happy.

Some of the beauty of the books (for me, at least) is that while the language has been abridged, none of the plots have been sugar-coated. When White Fang goes after another dog for revenge, he kills the dog. The dog dies. Robinson Crusoe runs into quite a few cannibals. In Frankenstein, the monster Edward kills his wife on his wedding night, not to mention his brother, his father, his sisters.

So there’s that.

But, that’s how the stories were written. And, one of the many reasons they are considered classics.

We took a little breather after Frankenstein, but I have to admit, I appreciated a little step away from the participation-trophy mentality. The good guys don’t always win, and that’s an important lesson.

An added benefit? Connecting with older generations. When William told his aunts, uncles or great uncles what he was reading, they would say, “Oh I remember falling in love with those stories when I was a kid!” Plus, cannibalism can certainly get a conversation going.

To me, the classics are classics for a reason. The stories are timeless and exciting, and yes, sometimes harsh. I love the fact that my son adores books written hundreds of years ago — and I know there aren’t too many kids who walk around yelling “Call me Ishmael!” But there should be.

William is still making his way through the series — I think there are about 99 of them — but he’s on to other books as well. The 30-minute requirement is a breeze, and often completed three times on any given day.

Last week, he was out of breath when he got to the car after school. “Sorry I’m late Mom, I was in the library getting a book.”

No problem, William. No problem at all.

Thanks Andrea! Thanks William!

The excitement and energy surrounding the World Cup is a unique bond that is shared across the world. Team JAB reached out to Miami native Andrea Montalbano for a JABBER’s perspective.

This author, journalist, mother and soccer coach grew up on Key Biscayne and played soccer since she could walk. She was a member of the soccer team at Coral Gables High School {class of 1986} and continued playing in college at Harvard University where she served as captain for the Harvard University soccer team and was eventually inducted into the Harvard Varsity Club Hall of Fame.

After college, Andrea pursued a career in journalism, attending Columbia University’s Graduate School of Journalism. She was an English anchor at Vatican Radio, and then worked as a writer and Supervising Producer for NBC News and NBC’s TODAY program. Now the mother of two young soccer players, Andrea is coaching, writing and bringing all her loves together in Soccer Sisters, the follow-up series to Breakaway {2010}. Andrea was recently featured in The New York Times. See her article HERE. She lives outside New York City with her husband Diron and two children.

We asked Andrea to share her perspective on the World Cup with us:

I recently asked my 10-year-old daughter why she loves the World Cup and instead of an answer I got “The Look.” Which look? You know. The one that often comes attached to an eye roll.

And I couldn’t have been happier.

Because, duh Mom, she loves everything about the World Cup.

She and her seven-year-old-brother are World Cup crazies. They beg me daily for more stickers for their player books, and honestly I am happy to oblige.

For starters, my daughter can now name every single team by merely glancing at the country’s flag. She and her brother have learned more geography in the last month than in all their years of schooling, and don’t even get me started on the dinner conversations about the good {goals!}, the bad {diving!}, and the ugly {OMG biting!} of this amazing event.

I was 10 years old when I watched my first World Cup. My father took me down to Argentina in 1978. One of my greatest memories is riding on the roof of a car in San Martin de los Andes celebrating Argentina’s victory. Talk about an indoctrination.

This indelible {albeit dangerous} image is probably one of the reasons that soccer became one of the great passions of my life.

My children love to play soccer now, too. We are all counting the days for the new professional teams launching in Miami and in New York City {my former and current hometowns}. Both are diverse and vibrant cities perfectly matched to the beautiful game.

But even if they didn’t play the sport, I would still want my children to feel like they are participants in one of the great global events of our time. More than half the planet will watch some part of this World Cup – and my kids will watch most of it. Even at the youngest of ages, they are starting to understand that there is a lot more to the World Cup than soccer.

They debate fouls and playing styles with their aunts and uncles, predict winners with shopkeepers and waiters, don jerseys and play pick-up games with their parents and friends – creating memories that can last a lifetime.

I know, because “The Look,” says it all.

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