Getting back to the point of my previous blog…
I am not quite sure what fostered my love for books. I suspect that it was my paternal grandmother. Every time she visited us she brought at least one book in tow. Every time we visited her, she would let me go through her built-in book shelves in the living room, and pick which ever book I fancied at the time.
I read my first Louisa May Alcott after having picked it from her shelves. I also had my first taste of William Shakespeare, as well as Edgar Allen Poe from those shelves.
I attended Iowa State University so that I could be close to my beloved grandmother. She lived in a little town in the northern part of Iowa which I was able to visit while attending college… via the Greyhound bus lines. While visiting my grandmother, I remember going to her small town’s library on many occasions. That was probably where I first was introduced to Agatha Christie, Victoria Holt, and Mary Rinehart Roberts.
When I look back at those times, and my grandmother’s absolute love for books, I can see where I possibly came by my love for the printed word… and hope that I have passed that love along to both of my children. (Actually, I know my husband and I have>>> They are both voracious readers.)