It's been pretty quiet around here at the EWN the past week or so and those of you that also bounce to my Facebook page occasionally have seen friends and family posting well wishes and nice sentiments. They've all been appreciated greatly.
My mom passed away this past Sunday. A year and a half ago I wrote about why I wouldn't be trashing the Twilight books anytime soon, as they were a launching point for my daughter that led her to books by Jane Austen, Emily Bronte, Shakespeare and beyond (Moby Dick is even on the TBR pile these days). Beyond truly believing that there is hardly anything out there that can be considered a complete waste of time for beginning readers, I am also a firm believer that parents can mold their children into readers.
If you were to walk into the front door of my parents home, a fairly modestly sized home, you couldn't help but notice the right hand wall is covered with three immense, floor-to-ceiling, ridiculously overcrowded, bookshelves. My mom was an incredible multi-tasker, and reading a book was almost always on of those multi-tasks. My dad is similar. And I can't remember the last time that either my sister or myself was not in the middle of at least one book. I don't think that is a coincidence at all.
She was a funny reader--a lover of mysteries, she always bailed from the first chapter to read the last 2 or 3 pages of the book, but then went back and read from where she bailed to the end of the book again. She was an author's dream though--if she read one of your books and liked it, she's immediately haunt bookstores, Amazon, and the local library to find each and every other title you ever published.
I cannot remember a birthday or Christmas that I wasn't given a book by her as my gift. In the rare cases it wasn't a book, it was money with a note--do not spend this on necessities--buy yourself a book and if you need more, let me know. If there's a reason I do what I do here at the EWN, some sort of cause and effect, it definitely traces back to my parents, their love of reading, and their taking me to the library every week when I was five years old. While she did end up with a reading snob who tended to say no thanks more than not when she suggested a book for me the past few years--her tastes ran extremely wide: romances, mysteries, thrillers, true crime, and beyond--she did end up with two readers for kids and a trio of grandkids that those traits were also passed on to.