I’d have to say my mother. As a young child, I saw her always reading reading and more reading. There was always a book in her hand, her lap, or on the coffee table. Sometimes it was still on top of chest as she drifted off to sleep with it still in her hands. She was a librarian at our local library in our small town and she would bring me books home from work all the time. It was the thrill of Christmas morning almost every time she brought me a new stack of books. I remember requesting my favorites be brought home over and over – Where the Wild Things Are and the one about the Night Kitchen by the same author. Another favorite was this huge glossy picture book of Unicorns that I never did catch the name of. I learned to love books as if they were treasures because to me they were. I learned early the possiblities and wonderous places a book can take you too. My love of reading from my mother is what inspired my imagination and desire to write.
Thank You MOM! I Love You