![]() ![]() ![]() Some of those books-such as THE LAST FREE BIRD-were written by my father, an education professor who also authored a bunch of children’s science books in the 60s and 70s. ![]() They were books about the Jamestown flood, the Donner party, elephant hunting in Africa, and the chemistry of a lemon. Otherwise known as nonfiction, even though that label never made intuitive sense to me as a kid, and still doesn’t. Anderson’s FEED, perhaps I could output a retinal scan of those cover memories and attach them here to show you, but alas, I cannot, nor did a World Cat search produce satisfying results. Images of book covers are fixed in my mind’s eye, a slide show of exciting childhood companions. The girl who spent many after-school hours with her mother in the library, as she happened to be the elementary school librarian. The kid under a tree, bike propped against its trunk, book bag on the ground with well-worn titles tumbling out, waiting to be re-read. The kid under the blanket with the flashlight, thinking I was putting one over on my parents who were, in actuality, too smart to stop a kid from reading past her bedtime. I was that kid struggling to walk while carrying a tower of books out of the library like so much firewood, stacked in my outstretched arms so high I had to peer around the side to see where I was going. If you want to read it on INK, click here. ![]()
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