I just wrote about childhood as I had known it.

Ramona stepped back into her closet, slid the door shut, pressed an imaginary button, and when her imaginary elevator had made its imaginary descent, stepped out onto the real first floor and raced a real problem. Her mother and father were leaving for Parents' Night.

What interests me is what children go through while growing up.

All knowledge is valuable to a librarian.

In my grammar school years back in the 1920s I used my ten-cents-a-week allowance for Saturday matinees of Douglas Fairbanks movies. All that swashbuckling and leaping about in the midst of the sails of ships!

Didn't the people who made those license plates care about little girls named Ramona?

With twins, reading aloud to them was the only chance I could get to sit down. I read them picture books until they were reading on their own.