I Read My Books Out Loud To

It's A Weird Kind Of Disconnect That This Whole Story [he Miraculous Journey Of Edward Tulane] Grew Around A Real Doll Of Mine, And Here He Is, With His "edward" Expression On His Face. It's Kind Of Reality Bumping Into Fantasy.

Seasons Passed, Fall And Winter And Spring And Summer. Leaves Blew In Through The Open Door Of Lucius Clarke’s Shop, And Rain, And The Green Outrageous Hopeful Light Of Spring. People Came And Went, Grandmothers And Doll Collectors And Little Girls With Their Mothers. Edward Tulane Waited. The Seasons Turned Into Years. Edward Tulane Waited. He Repeated The Old Doll’s Words Over And Over Until They Wore A Smooth Groove Of Hope In His Brain: Someone Will Come; Someone Will Come For You.

As A Kid Books Changed How I Looked At The World And Helped Me Understand Things. Books Still Deepen Me And Open My Heart.

That Is Surely The Truth, At Least For Now. But Perhaps You Have Not Noticed: The Truth Is Forever Changing.

Reader, You Must Know That An Interesting Fate (sometimes Involving Rats, Sometimes Not) Awaits Almost Everyone, Mouse Or Man, Who Does Not Conform.