Mary Daniels Brown
My mother always insisted that, as soon as I was old enough to sit up, she’d find me in my crib after my nap babbling away, with a Little Golden Book on my lap. I’ve had my nose in a book ever since. I grew up in a small town, with the tiny town library literally in my backyard. As an only child in an unhappy home, I found comfort and companionship in books.
As an adult I wanted to be Harry Potter, although I admit I’m more Hermione. My life has been a series of research projects. Reading has taught me that human lives are deliciously messy and that “it’s complicated” isn’t a punchline.
This is so depressing–and scary as hell.
I can’t even read all the news articles about the latest incident any more. Sort of related: Have you seen the Judy Blume documentary on Amazon Prime? Since I’m only about 10 years younger than Judy, I didn’t grow up with her books. The documentary is good at focusing on how progressive her career has been. There’s a lot about kids writing letters to her because nobody else would talk with them about issues like puberty, sex, assault, bullying, etc.