You know what I had growing up? A basement. A simple basement down a simple flight of stairs. It was wonderful. My dad had an office down there, filled with his extensive library of books that I devoured when I was a child. The first novel I ever read was Jaws. I was seven at the time, and it was quite an eye opener. I learned that I was never going to go swimming in New England, and also that sex scenes in novels were weird, hard to fathom, and something that I wanted to investigate in much greater depth. I read that book, and many, many more in our basement. Continue reading
