Once upon a time, I was a little redheaded bookworm. I even had lovely brown glasses to better fit the book-loving profile. I read and read and read and read. My uncles teased me. I remember being forced out of the van (away from my book!) on a family camping trip to hike with my cousins. And of course, as with any mystery-loving bookworm of a certain age, Nancy Drew was one of my best friends. I had a set of the first 20 Nancy Drews (a gift from my piano teacher. She also gave us the first 20 Hardy Boys) and I read all of those in no time flat, and then devoured every one on the shelf at the library.
It's been years since I've spent time with Nancy, her roadster, Bess, George, and Hannah, but I've recently remade her acquaintance, thanks to my sweet Sophie and her choice of books on CD. We have to drive to Bountiful a couple of times a week for soccer practice for Josh (because we thought we'd better let him try out for comp soccer both here AND by the new house just to cover our bases) and so we're listening to a lot of audiobooks, among which have been The Hidden Staircase and The Mystery at Lilac Inn.
Ahhhh, Nancy. Listening to your books reminds me of some of my life's little disappointments, including:
I've never been able to solve a mystery based on a typewriter's idiosyncrasies (as in, "Oh, look! The "a" on this note is noticeably lighter than the other letters. If we can find this typewriter, we'll find our thief!").
My dad never bought me a cute little blue roadster.
I didn't get to just take off for weekends (in said blue roadster) to hang out with my vast number of dear dear friends who happen to live in really cool old mansions.
Real life crimes are so much dirtier than stolen diamonds and pretend ghosts.
I have no Hannah waiting at home to cook me lunch or dinner or snacks or to worry about me and take care of all of my household needs.
And truly worst of all, no place I've EVER lived has had secret passageways or hidden rooms. I'm very devastated about this. It's always been a desire of mine to have a secret staircase, and NOW I KNOW WHY!
It's all those Nancy Drew books I read. They've spoiled my view of the world forever. So curse you, Nancy Drew, you and your sleuthing upper-middle class hobby-filled ways.
Oh well. At least we share titian hair...
6 comments:
This is funny. I loved books as a kid too and my extended family just laughed at me--I would take them with me on walks, camping, hikes, fishing, you name it, they were with me. Good for you. I never read Nancy Drew though. I did, however, read the Anne of Green Gables books and others like that. I loved to escape!!! I still do (lol)
My bookworm favorites were The Great Brain series, Anne of Green Gables, and Danny the Champion of the World. I'm so glad that reading like a fiend is more socially acceptable as an adult.
Nancy Drew was my absolute fave as a kid, and I just bought a bunch for my daughter at a garage sale but had to read them all first. :) And because I read Nancy so much, I was always a little bummed I did NOT have titian hair. Would've been lovely.
Oh, and my mom *still* gets on my case for reading too much and not socializing enough. :)
I didn't like to read as a kid. Always tried to fake book reports. It's a wonder we're friends isn't it? :)
Of course, for the record (as you already know), let me say that I have read unabridged War and Peace cover to cover. Anyone who has done that can call themselves a reader.
Completely agree! ;) I loved Nancy Drew!
Brittney went through her Nancy Drew phase a year or two ago, so I'm going to have her read this. :) She'll think it's great. I never read Nancy as a kid, but I did love to read.
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