library

As a child, I devoured books. In the summers, I sucked them down like Otter Pops from my grandmother's freezer, tucked in the crook of tree branches or sitting on swingsets or lounging on the couch or under my blankets at night. During the school year I carried them onto the playground or read them under my desk thinking the teacher wouldn't notice. My fifth grade teacher — tired of telling me to put my book away — once kept me in at recess as punishment. My punishment? To stay inside and read? It was heaven. We lived out in the country,…