Excerpt:
Growing up, I had a voracious appetite for books. I was constantly bothering my parents to please read one more story.
Bored with the always-predictable ending to the “Frog and Toad” stories, their voices hoarse, my parents finally invested in books on tape. I quickly realized that the professional readers on my tapes were much more animated than my parents, and never demanded that I go to bed. The books on tape became my preferred method of getting my literary fix.
When I learned to read to myself, I abandoned my beloved tapes. Chapter books couldn’t be absorbed in a single night the way picture books could, and it felt much more grown-up to walk around with my nose in a book than to wear headphones.
