Sunday, September 16, 2012


It all began with my mother reading fairy tales to me before bed time. I can still picture the line drawn image of Sleeping Beauty amongst roses and thorns on the cover page to the story. Then came, to my poor mother's dismay, the endless recitations of Dr. Suess' Green Eggs and Ham, which to this day, unlike the poor unnamed character berated by Sam I Am, if the ham and eggs are green, I pass them by (yuck!).  But it wasn't until I was twelve years old when I purchased my very first book with my very own money that I entered that realm of imagination that only a story read with your own eyes can engender.  That wonderful book was Casey's Shadow by Burton Whol. I long ago lost my copy of Mr. Whol's story of courage and perseverance, but to this day it holds a special place in my heart as the door that opened my budding mind to the magic of story.

Since then, I have read hundreds of novels, short stories, poetry and plays -- each one written in a unique voice, but all stemming from the same trials of the human condition. I am by no means a learned scholar of any particular period or genre, nor do I subscribe to any set philosophical doctrine.  To me, no matter what the conveyance, if the story sparks my imagination, it is a worthy read.

With that love of story in mind, I now endeavor with this blog to set to writing some of my observations. My purpose is three fold: 1) to keep a record of what I have read for my own future reference,  2) to possibly spark an interest in others to dig deeper into what they read, and 3) to commune with fellow bibliophiles through any comments they are kind enough to post.

Regardless of all of the above, for anyone who reads this blog, may the magic of story be always with you no matter what the source.

No comments:

Post a Comment