By Amanda Cleary Eastep There is a scent. Sometimes it makes me sneeze. The smell of books: One like a door closed on a dusty attic that, when opened, overwhelms you with its secrets and want of discovery. The other like all things new . . . new car, new baby, new day . . […]
By Amanda Cleary Eastep In the corner of our fifth/sixth grade Lutheran classroom was a narrow bookshelf full of books that were ours alone. Our parochial school had a library, a place I loved to visit despite the taunts of the older students who worked the desk: “You’ll never read this book. . .it’s too […]
