When I was five, Miss Thailing awarded a construction paper circle for every book you read. You tacked it on the classroom wall to build a reading caterpillar. She stopped giving me circles after mine wrapped around the classroom three times. I was always happy in a book. Which was lucky, because I didn’t get along too well otherwise with Miss Thailing. I’ll never forget the day she clapped the lid on the candy jar shut, grabbed my desk by the legs, and shook it upside down, announcing that I’d be staying in for recess until my messy desk was cleaned up. Sheesh, was first grade supposed to be this rough?
It was a book that tricked me into writing shows. The letters of John and Abigail Adams struck me in a hundred different ways. But how could I share what amazed me in their story -- and how deeply it moved me? There's the challenge. And once you’re hooked, all sorts of stories come knocking, looking for a little love. They keep me writing every day. Hey, for some kids, storytime never ends.



