Once upon a time there was a little girl who fell in love with books. She spied with Harriet and recorded everything she saw. She lost herself in Narnia with Aslan, and in Oxford with Lyra and a great armored bear. She played the Egypt Game and escaped to the Met with some Mixed Up Files. She solved mysteries with Nancy and the Boxcar Children, flew to Never, Never Land with Tink, and found a Secret Garden behind a wall. She learned that her missing objects were probably just Borrowed, and that she could very possibly be a Little Princess.
She sat on porches in the summer with stacks of books and pitchers of lemonade by her side. She read several Baby Sitter’s Club books in one sitting, ignored her parents and the waitress and the world while Bilbo was adventuring. She found Harry Potter and grew up with him, always sort of hoping that the Hogwarts letter might still arrive in the mail. She read the classics, but only when she had to, and sometimes she felt guilty for it. But the classics slowed her down, and she preferred to tear voraciously through more modern works. She discovered memoirs of Glass Castles and Liars Clubs and couldn’t put them down. She discovered she loved gripping tales of murder and unreliable narrators. She liked mysteries and fantasies and epic family sagas. Love stories, coming of age narratives, historical plots. She loved words on pages that put ideas in her head.
She majored in English. She went to the City. She worked in publishing. She moved back to the Finger Lakes. She got a Masters. She became a librarian. She reads for the love of reading. She talks about books, she gushes over characters and story lines and mysteries that kept her guessing til the end. She likes to pair her books with wine or coffee or beer or tea. She loves to share the things she loves. And now she’ll write about them here.