WORD GENES

by Judy Enderle

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Where does it come from, the love of words? Are word lovers born or created? Maybe both.

In my family, my parents were both avid readers. Until his death at a 101, my father was a weekly visitor to the public library where he checked out the LARGE PRINT books. Give him a good adventure, action, suspense, mystery novel or a historical biography and he was happy. My mother was an English teacher and it wasn’t unusual to receive a letter from her with a “story idea” for her aspiring author daughter. She also loved crossword puzzles as much as books and passed that love along to my sister and me. Words!

As life moved ahead, my children and I visited the library on a regular basis. They all loved science fiction and fantasy as well as animal stories. I took writing classes, met my author friend and writing partner, Stephanie. Publication happened first with “Highlights for Children,” then with children’s book publishers. Words!

More time has passed. I’m now a grandmother. My daughter is publishing books in the adult market to strong reviews. Her books are the type my dad would have loved, full of action and intrigue. Her latest is The Shadow & The Sun. My older son is dabbling in science fiction short stories and a novel is getting birthed. All three of my kids wipe me out in Words With Friends, especially my younger son, and I have to work hard to match wits with both my grandgirls at this game, too. Words!

Yeah! Words! Is it the sound, the meanings, or the challenge of using those 26 letters to create an entire world populated with intriguing characters that makes them so appealing? Most likely all three and more. Whatever it is, word genes thrive in our family. How about yours?

 

3 thoughts on “WORD GENES

  1. Good post, Judy! My mother read tons of books, as did I from a young age. My dearly loved father read the newspaper….but he drove me to the library once a week when I was too young to drive, myself, and sat patiently–I always promised to be ‘fast’ and never was–his paper spread out before him, while I went from book stack to book stack and filled my arms with all the books I was allowed to take. I will always remember those trips as quiet acts of love.