Long Ago...

In a recent post I was whining (yes, whining…) about my temporary inability to concentrate. Hence, no great news flashes from my corner.

Guy from Astoria Oregon Rust suggested that I, “…write about the young you. Tell us about growing up, things you discovered, mistakes you've made...”

Well, I’m not going into the mistakes I’ve made — you don’t kick a woman when she’s down — but I did give some thought to that “young me.” I came up with a few defining moments in my life. Not necessarily scintillating news but, nonetheless, interesting. (To me.)

Here’s one:

At the age of ten I had finished reading every book worth reading in the children’s section of our local library. We’re talking many years ago — no “tween” section. We’re also not talking a huge library — but still.

(The above picture is of the actual library – it actually extended quite far back.)

The two dear, elderly librarians insisted I get written parental permission to enter the big, bad ADULT section. No problem. My parents encouraged my reading with minimal interference.

I can still remember entering that inner sanctum. I swear, it even smelled differently from the children’s section. (Now that I think about it, of course it did. Children can be smelly little beings.)

And it was ENORMOUS. More books than I could possibly imagine reading. To me, that was wealth and treasure.

It was years before I could sneak out books such as Valley of the Dolls past the watchful eyes of those two ladies. But on the plus side, they considered me their little protégé and took the time to make marvelous recommendations. The library was a source of wonder and fascination. I traveled to other worlds and gained lasting knowledge as to the human experience. The joy and solace that can be found in words has never left me.

So, there you have it. The origins or beginnings of Bookish Beth.

Small wonder I ended up with a blog entitled BooksEtc.

(Thanks, Guy. It was fun revisiting that ten year old child.)