The library was my sanctuary, the place where I submerged myself in the depths of books, swept into an alternate reality that protected me from the one I lived in.
I still went to the library in my home town, while everyone else used their Barnes and Noble Nooks, or their Kindles. I liked the feeling of the paper and the heft of the book. I didn’t have a husband yet who was disturbed by light when we went to bed, so I could read at night with a flashlight,
Every summer that our library still existed, it had a contest. If a kid read 15 books in the summer—the librarian stamped the kid’s card each time a book was returned—that kid got to go to the library summer’s end party and get ice cream and cookies and a little badge. I remember this every time I set my Goodreads’ goal for the year.
