I had read all of the "kid" books in my small town library and loved Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, but I wanted bigger stories.
I went to the grownup section and browsed through the shelves. That's when I discovered Ed McBain's 87th Precinct mysteries.
Wow. Suddenly I was transported to New York City. I devoured the books about Steve Carella, his deaf wife Teddy, and the cops of the 87th Precinct.
I've always been glad that the librarian never called my parents to tell them about the books I was reading. Instead, she just looked over her glasses at me and quirked a gray eyebrow but said nothing.
My mom was a reader, and she never questioned the books I checked out. She understood the desire to escape—to dive into an adventure one can't usuallly experience in real life.
Today, October 15, is Ed McBain's birthday. If he were alive, I'd write him a fan letter and tell him how much his books meant to me.