I don’t remember exactly when I fell in love with books. I remember laying in bed with my grandmother, listening to her read to me. I remember sitting in the grass in our backyard reading the Little House series, being so wrapped up in the world Laura Ingalls Wilder created that I forgot everything around me. I remember the first time I stepped into a Borders, the smell of the coffee and freshly printed books overwhelming me so much that if I close my eyes I can still remember that smell exactly.
Books have been the one constant in my life. When things got crazy, I could always hide in a book. When I needed the answer to a burning question, someone out there had the answer for me, neatly typed and easy to access.