I was raised by a literary mother. We rarely went to movies; we didn't have cable TV. The walls of our house were lined with bookcases, and we spent our weekends at the library, the local bookstore, used bookstores in Cleveland and Amish country with wooden floors that creaked beneath our feet, adding to our collection. She read to me; we read together; she gave me the time and space to read on my own. My heroines were Anne Shirley, Jo March, Laura Ingalls Wilder. I said I wanted to be a writer before I knew how to make letters on a page. No other profession seemed as honorable, or as magical. My mother never once suggested I be anything else.
I am so grateful.
Happy Mother's Day, Mom.
I am so grateful.
Happy Mother's Day, Mom.






