Stories have always been an important part of my life. I remember hiding behind my door and watching through the gap between the door and jam to watch my mom’s “grown-up” stories, like Thornbirds, when I was supposed to be in bed. I remember dragging my pillow and blanket out into the living room and curling up at my mom’s feet as she read stories from books that I never dreamed I’d someday be able to read myself. I remember playing house in the attic and drive-up cleaners in my room, making up my own life stories. And I remember being fascinated by the stories so many adults in my life would tell, often thinking I’d never have real stories of my own.
As I have grown older, I’ve learned that everyone has a story made up by so many other smaller stories. And, yes, I still love to hear those stories: whether it’s talking to my grandpa about his time in World War II or growing up during the Depression or talking to complete strangers in an airport.
My love of stories naturally led to my love of books and movies. When I moved from my townhouse into my house, the guys moving me asked if I had heard of a library as they were tired of moving my library from the second story. Whether it’s listening to books in my car or while I workout, or spending a snow day curled up in front of a fire reading, I love escaping into a new world with a new story.
I’ve been keeping a list of the books I’ve read for the past few years, but after coming across some great book blogs, I decided to give the whole book blog a try for myself. So, here it is…My Life in Books….