|Image credit: sonyae / 123RF Stock Photo|
by Patty Kiyono
One of my favorite summer memories of childhood is sitting in the shade of the old maple tree in our back yard with a good book. The public library was about a mile away, and my brothers and I would make weekly trips there to get books to read. I loved those trips there, but the difficult part was deciding which books to take home. Our mom didn't drive, so we could only take what books we could carry during the long walk home.
Now that I'm writing books, I often wonder about the people who have read them. I know some of them - friends and family, co-workers and former students who have told me they've read something I've written. But they're only a small fraction of the people who have downloaded and have presumably read my books. I like to imagine a harried working mom who sits down with her kindle after finally getting the kids to bed, or a lonely grandma who reads on her nook while waiting for her grandkids to call. Or maybe a career woman who sneaks in a few pages on her phone while riding the train to work.
Or maybe, just maybe, it's a young girl, sitting in the shade of an old maple tree, reading about a samurai warrior on her ipad and enjoying her summer vacation.