~ Gone With The Wind ~

"The greatest part of a writer's time is spent in reading. In order to write, a man will turn over half a library, to make one book."
                                                                 -Samuel Johnson

I've been a nerd for a long time. For as long as I can remember, I preferred to be nose-deep in a book than almost anywhere else. My very first GROWN UP books were these charming stories about Donna Parker. I still have the complete set. Actually I have two complete sets, but who's counting? I adored these books and the girl I was when I read them. I also had and have the Annette Funicello series and Janet Lennon, and several other single titles. They meant so much to me, that I spent a good deal of time tracking them down through e-bay and antique stores over the years, until I completed my quest of gathering all the titles I could remember. For many years now, they've shared sacred space on my library book shelves.They take their rightful place, along with all the other important books. When ever my eye wanders over their colorful spines, it just makes me happy. And every once in awhile, I'll read one just for the fun of it. They still leave a sweet taste in my mouth. Did you know there are Pinterest boards devoted to Donna Parker? Seems as if she cast her happy spell on a lot of tweens in the sixties. Good times. Sigh.

Of course I graduated, to bigger stories. I've always been a sucker for a good biography. Then one day in the fifth grade I lugged home Gone With the Wind. My mother, clucked "what in the world are you doing with that thing?" Of course, it was way over my head. But somehow I was still swept away to the south and the civil war and I knew enough to know I held something special in my hands.

Holding all of these wonderful words in my hands, left a mark on me. The ink of a thousand pages stained my soul. I fell in love with words. And the way someone with skill could twist them and bend them into shapes I'd never seen. Mark Twain, had me laughing out loud. Jane Austen, chasing after Mr. Darcy, and Pat Conroy had me in awe as he painted pictures of his beloved low country.

It didn't take long before I knew I would rather play with words, than other toys. At thirteen I wrote my first novel, and I've never looked back. I understand what I feel about something after the words have pushed themselves down through the fingertips and onto the page.

Today as I edit away on my current manuscript...I thank Donna, Annette, Amelia, Florence, Scarlett and so many others for capturing my imagination all those years ago and leading me on an adventure of a lifetime.

Can you relate?

 Tell me about your early book affairs....