Martin Wilson's What They Always Tell Us hears the voices of the young as they struggle toward adulthood.

September 11 We thought we'd outdistanced history Told our children it was nowhere near; Even when history struck Columbine, It didn't happen here. We took down the maps in the classroom, And when they were safely furled, We told the young what they wanted to hear, That they were immune from a menacing world. But history isn't a folded-up map, Or an unread textbook tome; Now we know history's a fireman's child Waiting at home alone.

We write by the light of every story we have ever read.

Only the nonreader fears books.

I read because one life isn't enough and in the pages of a book, I can be anybody.

With the poetry of plain speaking, Shannon Hitchcock recreates the daily drama of a vanished world.

We don't write what we know. We write what we wonder about.