How reading brought a stepdad and stepdaughter together
By Ptolemy Tompkins
I moved into my new wife Rebecca’s Greenwich Village apartment back in 1994, and knew that it would take awhile before I really felt at home. Like most New York apartments, Rebecca’s was small—at least by the standards of non-New Yorkers. It was also crammed full of her and her seven-year-old daughter Mara’s stuff. Where, in this jumble of Fisher-Price toys, leotards, record albums and Polly Pocket lunchboxes, would I fit any of my stuff? I wondered.
Most important, my books. Though it’s not all that practical, books have always been the first thing I like to bring along with me whenever I move somewhere new. Ever since I was a kid I’ve been one of those people who doesn’t just read books. I arrange my life around them. CLICK HERE TO READ ENTIRE ARTICLE