When I was 13 or 14, John Flanagan’s Ranger’s Apprentice series was my reading obsession. If memory serves, that summer, I’d checked out the first five books from the library and eagerly started devouring them. Vacation rolled around, and I made the terrible mistake of only packing two of my books, thinking I’d be much too busy to actually read them. Alas, I severely underestimated my own powers, and I was never so impatient for vacation to be over as I was that year, because I couldn’t wait to get home and find out if my new literary friends had survived whatever dramatic escapade had befallen them.
This memory popped up recently as I worked my way through S. D. Smith’s The Green Ember series. Book III ended with quite the cliff-hanger, and even though I’d requested Book IV at my local library, it was taunting me from another library shelf an hour away. Soon enough, though, as I was zipping back from visiting my adorable new nephew, I made a much-needed pitstop at the library for my prize. And if these words you’re reading seem coherent, it’s thanks to my editor, not my own doing — I was up past midnight before writing this so I could finish the book in one go.
Comments