Why I Love to Read

By Kay Kendall

I can’t recall a time when I didn’t love to lose myself in
books. Reading is so much a part of me that I take it for granted—like breathing,
sleeping, eating.

If you take something for granted, then you usually never
stop to question why you are doing that activity. Certainly that was true for
me and my passion for books for the longest time. Lately, however, I’ve
wondered why I developed this habit of avid reading. Why books and not
something else? And to say merely that I ENJOY books and that’s why I read begs
the question.
Then the question becomes this instead: Why do I enjoy
reading?
Some people have calm, placid minds. I do not. My mind hops
around from subject to subject, questioning what it notices, absorbing everything
and wanting to learn more. When nothing is going on around me, then I spin
stories. This also was true for me as long as I can remember.
I was an only child and had to run outside to find
playmates. As a member of the baby boom generation, I had plenty of other children
nearby and was fortunate in that regard. However, when I was forced to take an
hour-long nap every afternoon during the summer, I never slept. I was always so
bored and entertained myself making up stories to while away the time.
Compared with diversions available to children these days, I
didn’t have many. My home lacked a television set until I was eight years old.
However, there were plenty of books. My parents read constantly and gave me books to
read. I suppose my mother must have read to me initially, but I must confess
that I can’t recall back that far. Both sets of my grandparents gave me books,
but as to which came first, those gifts or being given books because I showed
interest in them, I cannot say. The Carnegie Library was my home away from home.
What I do recall is escaping into other worlds
when I read. I consumed books like candy. I was hungry for escape and
entertainment and learning. I have always loved learning new things—mostly about
people, not so much about science and technical things. I wanted to learn about
all the people in the world and how they differed and what made them so.
My Kansas hometown of 12,000 people was too small for me. I
wanted to learn about the whole wide world. By default, Dallas, Texas, became my
mecca as we motored there several times a year to see my paternal grandparents.
They were also keen readers. Perhaps reading was a part of my DNA. My Texas grandparents kept every issue of The National Geographic that entered their home over the course of many decades, and their set of Harvard Classics lives today in my own living room.
Some of my childhood friends still love to read too, but others
never did and don’t now. This difference puzzled me for some time, but these
days, when I look at next-door neighbors and see how little the parents read, I
surmise that their children won’t become readers either. I don’t see magazines
or books in their home, and I’ve been going over there for more than a decade,
so I should know. The two children appear to read only when they’re doing their
homework or playing games on iPods. They get lost in their digital world the
way I used to get lost in my literary one and still do.
Maybe that is the reason for the big difference right there.
What your parents do informs who you are. For example, my son and his wife (an
English major in college and now a technical editor) are raising my two
grandchildren in a home stuffed with books. My daughter-in-law read to their
first child almost from the moment he was born. He taught himself to read by
the age of four and now at age seven tears through at least three books a week.
To protect the family budget, an E-reader was purchased in order to keep the
costs down of supplying my grandson with books to read. His online wish list
always holds at least twenty books.
In the end, I am not sure I have answered my own question—why
I love to read—but I am sure of one thing. This love of mine has already gone
on to the next two generations. And I am content.
(In my next piece on the Stiletto Gang blog, I will consider
why “experts say” reading is good for us.)

*******
Kay Kendall is a long-time fan of historical novels and writes atmospheric mysteries that capture the spirit and turbulence of the sixties. She is a reformed PR executive who lives in Texas with her husband, three house rabbits, and spaniel Wills. Terribly allergic to her bunnies, she loves them anyway! Her book titles show she’s a Bob Dylan buff too. RAINY DAY WOMEN published on July 7–the second in her Austin Starr Mystery series. The audio-book will be out soon. 
http://www.amazon.com/Rainy-Day-Women-Mystery-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B00W2X5SCS

 

 

Frustrations Plaguing Me Due to New Email Address

Because I kept getting messages from people I’ve never heard of saying I was sending them inappropriate emails, I went to my server and asked what to do. First solution, change my password on my email address.

That was done, but I kept getting complaints.

Next solution, change my email address. So I did that. Had to have help though to change it on my computer (did it through  phone directions). Had to have help changing it on my iPhone which meant going into the server’s office. Still haven’t changed it on my iPad, but have printed direction on how to do that.

A new email address means alerting all my contacts. Did that, took forever. (And I don’t think it took.)

I have several groups for my email, though I changed them, but must’ve done something wrong because only two made it–the two smallest ones. I really don’t feel like doing the other ones over, but guess I will–but not immediately. (Finally figured out how to do that right.)

In the meantime, I’m supposed to be working on a book. It’s been hard finding time to do that.

My question is, why on earth would someone bother to hack into someone’s account just to send out yukky messages? And why, pray tell, didn’t those who got them just delete them? I’ve received a lot of emails from folks I knew didn’t send them. Deleting them was all that was necessary.

At least it gave me something to write about for my blog post (I’d have rather written about something more entertaining.)

Now back to my writing so I can have a new book for next year.

Though sometime this month a new Deputy Tempe Crabtree should be debuting.

Marilyn

Summer Romance Turns to Murder by Lynn Cahoon

So I just got back from RWA Nat’ls, held in NYC. What’s a mystery writer doing at a Romance conference?

There were a lot of us there. Maybe we were the secret recruiters… Come to the dark side, we have cookies…


Seriously, there’s a lot of cross over with romantic suspense and mystery. I moderated a panel with five women who write for Intrigue as they talked about the mystery side of their writing and how it melds with the romance. Helen Kay Diamond got to talk about the villains, which is the best part of writing the story.

All it all, it was a great conference. I was inspired by the constant litany of Never give up, Never surrender. Well, at least I kept hearing the tune. It’s my favorite quote and I’m sure I heard a version of it from each of the keynote speakers.

I ate too much, laughed a lot, learned more, and came home inspired and with at least one bright and shiny idea.

Next month it’s New Orleans and the Writer’s for New Orleans conference. Now where did I put my Hermione costume?

Killer Run releases August 18th – Have you pre-ordered your copy yet?

Jill Gardner—owner of Coffee, Books,
and More—has somehow been talked into sponsoring a 5k race along the beautiful
California coast. The race is a fundraiser for the local preservation
society—but not everyone is feeling so charitable…

 The day of the race, everyone hits the ground
running…until a local business owner stumbles over a very stationary body. The
deceased is the vicious wife of the husband-and-wife team hired to promote the
event—and the husband turns to Jill for help in clearing his name. But did he
do it? Jill will have to be very careful, because this killer is ready to put
her out of the running…forever!