Books were an escape for me. I could fall into a book and ignore all else around me -- even meal time. Libraries were quiet. Each shelf beckoned. Once I could check books out, I started with "A" and kept going. Even today, when life becomes chaotic and I don't want to watch the news, a new story beckons. Maybe this is why I became a writer many decades later, entranced by words and the mystery behind an unfolding story.
I remember reading Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea in my school library and trying to hold back my tears. I was drawn to adventure and now can't remember the book that spawned my dream to travel by ship around the Horn. Other favorites included: Louisa May Alcott's Little Women (somehow I was Jo and Beth at the same time); George Orwell's Animal Farm, Robert Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land, Frank Herbert's Dune, and pretty much anything by Ray Bradbury. As a teenager, I used to babysit for one family who kept a box of science fiction in the basement. I read them all.
Today, i-pads beckon. My grandchildren might start reading. The thirteen year old is carrying around two library books, one Japanese manga, and the other a non-fiction book about police work behind crime scenes. At least, she's reading.
