Remember the Simple Days of Reading

Remember the Simple Days of Reading Reach back in your memories, and remember how you read books. As a chid, as a teen, as a young adult, then now. Which book, when you see the title again, springs a memory back to life, reminding you how intensely you fell into that story and didnt want to climb out? I built a tree house for my grandsons second birthday. Yeah, I know its a little over-the- top nuts, but I designed it and had it built so its a place hell retreat to long into college. Right now its all about climbing the stairs and peering at the tree limbs and over at the chickens. In a few years, itll be about Swiss Family Robinson, Diary of a Wimpy Kid, or something along the line of Maximum Ride. Im running power to it in the future so that, yes, he can drag his laptop up there and maybe even spend the night, maybe bring his friends along. While I have a selfish motive, that of having him around more, I did it because what kid hasnt wished for a tree house? On Facebook, I showed pictures of the house (see one at the top of this newsletter cool, huh?), and was dumbfounded at the 200+ responses from adults. Men and women who recalled their tree houses, or pined over never having one. So I asked them why theres such an attraction to tree houses? Privacy, a place to read, a place to write, a place to feel closer to nature. If we reach back again in those reading memories mentioned earlier, thats what we wanted from the time we could read Dick and Jane books. Its an escape into our deep, true selves, gifting ourselves with permission to reach far. That is what a book is supposed to do. Sometimes, in our frenzy to learn how to publish, or our yearning to make money, we forget that feeling were supposed to be offering to readers. Maybe we need to climb up into a tree house to remember.