Can't talk. Reading.

I got 18 books for my birthday. Talk about happy happy, joy joy! It's hog heaven for a bibliophile like me. I got several Studs Terkel books, several P.G. Wodehouse collections, Jane Austen's 'Persuasion' (I know, I can't believe I didn't have it yet either), Ben Franklin's autobiography, three awesome vegetarian cookbooks, some Martha Grimes mysteries, and a really interesting-sounding book called 'The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary' by Simon Winchester... as well as a few other titles I'm sure I'm forgetting.

So it's really been quite a delightful few weeks. I started off with the P.G. Wodehouse, because I was stressed out with work and volunteer duties, and if there's any better literary stress relief than Wodehouse, I'd love to know what it is. If you've never heard of him, he's an absolutely hilarious writer of short stories and novels generally set among the English upper class during the early 1900s or so. His work is laugh-out-loud funny, like to the point that my husband would get annoyed with me for laughing so much while he was trying to watch TV or do work. Wodehouse (pronounced Woodhouse) was truly a brilliant comedic writer, and if you haven't yet fallen in love with him, you're in luck because the man was also quite prolific.

Studs Terkel, who I've raved about before (a couple of times, actually), is another of my favorite writers, although decidedly of a different tone than dear old Wodehouse. Where Wodehouse lets you take refuge in a totally foreign world of butlers and valets and earls and such, Studs brings you to the city and opens your eyes to the perspective of people from all walks of life. If you've never heard of him, he's an oral historian (he died last year, and I still can't think of him in past tense, it just hurts too much) who interviewed thousands of people on every subject imaginable over his lengthy career - but mostly just had them talk about themselves. To me, Studs brings to light the commonalities of humanity, breaking down social, racial and cultural divides. While he frequently interviews the common man (and woman), he's also done a lot of amazing interviews with writers, musicians, etc; in fact, one of my favorites of his books is called 'And They All Sang'. It's a compilation of his interviews with musicians from opera singers to Bob Dylan to Earl 'Fatha' Hines over 40 or so years, and it is incredible. You might also call Studs a folk historian, as he's collected the memories of so many people on topics such as the Great Depression (see his book "Hard Times") and WWII ("'The Good War'").

Then, of course, if you're like me and need to change up your intense sociological reading with some brain candy, we turn to Martha Grimes. The one thing that bugs me about Martha Grimes is her apparently lackadaisical copy editor, or whoever's responsible for the relatively frequent typos in her books. I mean, really. Come on. The publishing house has to be making a pretty penny off sales of her Richard Jury series, and they can't catch these? Spell check is not an acceptable substitute. In fact, why not hire ME to read all the books and fix the typos for you? I'd be just fine with that. Anyway, I think Grimes does a great job developing her characters and plots, and her mysteries are always an enjoyable read, typos aside.

I actually haven't started in on the rest of the books yet, but I'm getting there. Wading through a huge stack of books is definitely one of my favorite "chores". Cheers!

A Little Prehistory

I owe it all to my mom, really. She's a librarian. She retired this past November, but in some ways librarians are like Marines; once a librarian, always a librarian. Some of my fondest memories of spending time with Mom are of reading together before bedtime. Sometimes she would read to me; sometimes I would read to her. It was great together-time. (By the way, I don't care how old you are, you need to read "The Pushcart War" if you haven't already. It was our all-time favorite.)

I learned to read when I was three years old. I've always been fascinated by words, and the fact that they could be captured by these markings on a page seemed like magic. I still remember the first book I read by myself, "The Wolf and the Seven Kids". It was during free time in preschool one day. Surprised the hell out of the teacher - I still remember the look on her face when I walked up to her afterwards, held up the book, and said, "I read this."

Sometime in the next year, I learned that books were written by people. I think this again was thanks to my mom. Before that, I'd assumed books were just there, like trees and cars and people. To find that people created books was like being struck by a lightning bolt.

Close upon the heels of that epiphany came the realization that I was one of those people who created books. Brimming with the certain knowledge of my destiny, I ran into the kitchen. "Mom," I said, my voice urgent. "I know what God wants me to do when I grow up." (My notions of God were a lot more clear-cut at age four.)

Mom looked surprised, then tolerant, as adults often do when kids make their life-changing discoveries.

"What's that, honey?"

"He wants me to be a writer."

She half-suppressed a smile. "Oh! Okay, honey."

"I know it, Mom. That's why I'm here," I insisted.

"Okay, Ann. Be a writer."