WHEN THE READING LIGHT WENT ON

My first memory of books and words was sitting on my grandfather’s lap. He used to read the dictionary to me as a little girl. I remember not knowing the words, but there was something very cozy about his leather chair, his pipe and this huge book.

There was nothing in that book except words. You could roam around from word to word. To this day, I read the dictionary.

On top of that, my mom was a great storyteller. She made stories up all the time about my world, and she read a lot of poetry to me. I remember Robert Louis Stevenson and Walt Whitman . That was also before I started school.

Once I was in school I had two people who were very influential.

I grew up in Des Moines, Iowa. Not far from my house was the 42nd Street library. It was close enough that I could walk as a little kid. It was my great treat to have this adventure.

The librarian always had two books ready for me on her desk. I would return the books I had from the week before, she would ask me questions and give me two more books. I felt very grown up.

And then I had a third grade teacher who read to us every day. On Friday afternoons, we got to act out the stories we best loved.

One of my strongest memories was when she read Peter Pan to us. We had finished the book and she announced that we would act it out. I got to play Peter. But I thought in my 8-year-old mind that she would notice my really long hair. I went into the bathroom at lunch time and cut off all my hair. It was powerful stuff.