Whenever a teacher asked the children in my grade school classes to read or write something, the other children reacted in a way that said they would rather be playing games or doing anything else. Those were my favorite times in class. From as far back as I remember, I’ve always loved reading, writing and doing research. Of course, the other kids that I was weird, but who could blame them. After all, how many children would rather do homework over playing video games? Not too many.

My interest in the written word started at an early age. I can pinpoint the exact moment. It was the day my dad arrived home with a new encyclopedia set. The big black books sparked interest in me, and I couldn’t stop myself from opening one and seeing for myself what was inside the thick black covers. I marveled at the colorful pictures of far away lands and exotic animals and absorbed as much of the text as I could. Most of the words were too big for me to pronounce at that young age, but I was still learning and I loved it. Of course, my parents always read to me. They read from books, but they also told stories of their childhoods and what it was like when they were growing up. I hung onto every word, and before I could even read myself, I was reciting stories off the top of my head.

My dad is an avid reader of all books. Fiction, non-fiction, biographical, history. His library at a back corner of the basement was and still is a fascination to me. I remember the first time he introduced me to that corner of the house. I was about seven years old and ready to be introduced to the world of literature. It was a far cry from that encyclopedia collection. Thousands of books from different authors, eras and topics. I was in awe at all the new knowledge right at my fingertips and immediately began my own treasure hunt among the hard and soft covers that lined the shelves.

I spent hours down there in that corner escaping to the far corners of the Earth and going on many adventures. I’ve gone scuba diving off the Great Barrier Reef and have frolicked with zebras and elephants in Africa and panda bears in Asia. I’ve been to the rain forests of South America and I felt as if I were there the day JFK was assassinated.