When did my love of reading begin? It was probably when I was about three. As my parents would tell me later, I was sitting in a Barnes and Noble "reading" a book to a bunch of other kids my age. Of course, I sent one new mother in a panic when she thought I was actually reading rather than telling a completely different story through the book's pictures. I like to think I held the book upside down. I'm not really sure about this detail. Of course, I was three and can't remember anything before my 6-year-old Barney Birthday party....
Or maybe it was when I was 12 and decided to volunteer at the public library to satisfy my school's community service requirement. I needed my mom to volunteer with me that year. In hindsight, I remember it was actually extremely boring to organize books by the dewey decimal system. Like two champs, my mother and I organized those books until I met my 25 hour requirement. As it turns out, I've always found it more enjoyable to read books, rather than organize them.
While I continue to ponder how I got to be a 22-year-old book lover, I know one thing for sure. I've always loved books, always been lucky enough to be surrounded by them, and as I recreate my father's library collection in my Southwest Florida apartment, I'm happy to share my thoughts along the way.