304 pages
What to say about this book? It’s a memoir that read to me more like a teenager was given a homework assignment to write individual essays about turning points in her life. That being said, I liked this tremendously as well – the author was, in fact, only 22 when she wrote it and there were shining moments of sharp wit poking out at times. I found myself forgiving the few cliché turns of phrase and immature story development because the heart of this story is a sweet tale of a love of literature shared between a parent and child. The author’s father read aloud to her every night from the time the Ozma was nine until her first day of college. Through divorce, dating, and deaths in the family, they managed it every night, which I found inspiring. This book is also a battle cry for librarianship and the art of reading aloud to children, as the author’s father (an elementary school librarian) retired before wanting to due to his district’s insistence that he stop reading aloud during the children’s library time. The author has since been touring (she spoke at the 2011 ALA conference) and promoting children’s literacy – best of luck to you, Alice Ozma!
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