The magic of words.

Reading is air. Ideas. Stories. Real and imagined. I can feel it when I have gone too long between stories. 

We live on a story planet. This is a place where stories abound, from something as seemingly simple as when life springs from a seed into a flower, to the epic adventures of people and their lives. There are billions of stories. So many have been told and passed down, even written, while others will never be told.

So Many Books (SMB) celebrates the stories and the audience.  SMB began years ago as a magazine that existed on paper but never appeared. It finds life again. It's a place to celebrate the reader, the audience, and the life that builds up around those ideas.

​My love affair with words started before I could talk. Words filled the air, even though I didn’t understand them, I knew they held magic. It wasn’t until I was asked to write an essay for a job application that the memories took shape and meaning.  

In that essay, titled My Father's Voice, I described him reading to me. I was small enough to easily fit on an adult's lap. My father would read the newspaper to me. I remember the paper, held in the air above us. His voice was deep, vibrating the back of my head. I couldn't hear the words but I could feel they were powerful and held meaning. They were serious words. 

There was my Mother's voice, next to me on the bed. She pointed to pages with pictures. The words were soft and floated around us. When my mother would fall asleep, instead of me, I would touch the pages of the book, pretending I was reading. They were words fill with magic.  

And that was just the beginning ...