When I was much younger, during elementary school, both of my parents worked. That's what Iowan do to support their families. When my younger sister and I were off during the summer, we often stayed with our mom's sister, or with both our paternal and maternal grandparents. My father's mother, who we all knew as "Nanny", took care of us during certain days of the week.
Cleo Florence Lane had not graduated from high school, made it through a grade in elementary before having to leave education and work in a glove factory. However, she taught herself to read by devouring either romance or western (quite a contradiction) novels. I had never seen her without a paperback, one casually stuffed in her overlarge purse (along with plastic bags for bringing home food from restaurants to eat as leftovers), and there was always one on the arm of her rocking chair, next to the large free-standing ashtray and end table with sugary Lipton's tea. The covers of these novels had fascinated me whether is was the windswept hair of the man and woman on the romance novel, or the lone cowboy on the western novel. This woman would forever change my life due to this obsessive behavior of reading.
We often went to market with Nanny during the summer, to pick up food for lunch or go shopping in the local Kmart. I loved the ham salad or egg salad sandwiches that were served in the small cafe's inside the department store, and begged to eat lunch there whenever I could. I also knew that Nanny would buy my sister and I something to take home with us at the end of the day, be it a small toy or trinket from the under-a-dollar end caps near the cash registers. However, what happened that summer would forever change me as a person and professional. We were allowed to select something from the newsstand in the Kmart as our reward for being good. My sister had already chosen a pink Barbie sticker book, hugging it to tiny body like a treasure. I had just started collecting comic books, as boys in the early 70's did, and picked up a Justice League issue, cover art drawing me in to the story inside. Comics were a quarter, or fifty cents for the thicker ones, so keeping to the dollar rule, I selected my reward. Nanny had a different perspective though, suggesting that I choose a book instead, as comics were for kids who couldn't read and only liked pictures. She spun the wire book carousel, almost suggesting a Louis L'Amour western (her favorite) for me to choose when I spied Star Trek 7 by James Blish, published by Bantam Books.
This seventy-five cent novel would be the catalyst for my life. Not only would I forever be a Star Trek fan, I would love to read. I devoured books whenever I could. I kept a book in my bookbag to read on the hour bus ride to and from school. I would pull out a book to read after I was done with my homework in class. I would curl up on the couch while my family watched television and read until bedtime. If we watched a movie, I wanted to read the novelization. They provided more than what a movie could offer and give me an in depth story. I often say, "the book is so much better" and compare the two like a critic.
And here I am decades later, reading books, rereading books, and sharing my reading list with friends. To end this exposition of why I am a reader and why the title for this blog, I plan to share my reading with anyone who wants to read my blog. I will be honest and share whether I liked the book or not (thank you other grandmother who was Irish) and give a short summary, sans too may spoilers, to share with anyone who might consider reading the book I just read. Feel free to follow. Feel free to leave comments. I am not offended by anything.
Starting a new blog? I'll be following!
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