Some writers know their calling from the time their diminutive fingers wrap around the first crayon from the box. While there are others — the category into which I fit — who had no special urge to write from those elementary years, but the urge finally arrived later in life. That, however, doesn’t mean that words were unimportant to me.  

Au contraire: I fell in love with books and words from the start. In fact, my most treasured possessions were my books. That’s what eventually led me to my career and business today, despite years of looking elsewhere.  

Indeed, wondrous words are what mattered most to the kid I was. Spoken words were always the most vibrant to me. I often joke that I started talking when the obstetrical doc raised his hand to slap my newly arrived posterior: “Can’t we discuss some mutually pleasing alternative to this impending swat?” as I imagine I said in my first internalized words.  

Words were always my playmates and how I did love them on a printed page. I read everything and anything within my reach: my Dr. Seuss collection, every cereal box ingredient, the manuals my mother brought home from her many continuing education and personal enrichment studies.  

The Mother Made Me Do It  

Before I was ten, I had read how to give manicures, how to use a stenographer’s machine, ways to sell real estate more effectively, and I had read every one of my Mother’s paperback books.  

The topics were as diverse as Yoga, business planning, palm reading for fun, and the special ones she kept way back in the closet. Those had something to do with subjects I didn’t quite then understand, but I knew that the Chatterley lady sure had a busy life going on.  

(I recall thinking that my mother didn’t appreciate those few books she threw back behind the shoe boxes, the ones she must not have liked reading, the ones she never knew then — and still doesn’t know to this day — that I found more interesting than the ones on our bookshelf.)  

Mother was, admirably, a well-rounded reader. Hence, my love affair with words and that voracious hunger for them was more than satiated. In fact, I learned a lot about people and their real-life love affairs, but I digress.  

I credit Mother in great part for giving me such as great start with reading. In particular, my constant companions were the royal blue, black accent banded, gold embossed, full set of World Book Encyclopedias, my beloved treasures, which she purchased spine-cracking new, probably from a door-to-door salesperson hawking some early-reader special. But wait there’s more: I also got a set of dictionaries, leather-bound, and bigger than my hands could hold. Those must have been the bonus gift.  

It mattered not to me from whom or how they arrived, but they all were my pride and joy, my favorite toy. To top it off, she subscribed to “Highlights for Children,” the award-winning magazine. Her efforts helped me become a gifted young student, scholarship winner, college graduate and a lifelong learner, albeit with an edge of mischief due to my innate curiosity.  
 

The Hilarity of Literacy  

Since those innocent, wide-eyed, youthful years, words have been at the root of nearly every stellar moment and every adversity I’ve worked to overcome in my life. Without a comfort for books and oral communications, the trying times would have been harder for me. It was only because I’d read everything from the Bible to Bambi’s Beach House Buddies (oops, Mother!) that I know how helpful, healing and hilarious words on paper truly are.  

Oh yes, I had also learned how to speak up after that OB-GYN failed to hear my primary, persuasive, gurgling, presentation points, which made me cry back then as though my life depended on it. At that primal, critical moment, it did. And had I been detached from words later in my tender young life, my tears and fears would have dominated in the perilous times, rather than the empowering words I read that got me through it all, then and now.  

Greater freedom comes with free access to printed words. No greater love is there than teaching or encouraging a child to love words, to write and to read. They’ll laugh a lot more, too.  

So, at this stage of life (‘stage’ has more of a comforting sound than saying at this age) I have no other choice than to write words of my own often, freely, and then to release those words with little hesitation — that is, after they undergo a healthy re-reading and self-editing.  

I write because if others had not done so, the pages of my youth would have been empty, unfulfilling to me, just bland and blank.  

So, here I am today, mining my latent passion to give wings to my thoughts, observations, opinions, helpful tips and information, facts and figures, compliments and critiques, and to record my stories, personal triumphs and perils. A to Z on VCO, and elsewhere, “From Parker’s Pen.”  

The urge is growing, I must admit, but earlier it was true that my self-resistance and a lack of discipline remained greater. Life, self-improvement and –discovery showed me that my inner child has a pen in her hand, and she’s going to write with or without me!  

Despite years of routine writing, formal education with a degree in mass communications and years working as a news copy editor, I really got it correct in my spirit: It’s right for me to write — for me — and to share it with others. Thank Goodness for readers, hurray.  

This is the best stage in life for me to do this. Through trial and error, I’ve learned which words move me towards joy and a feeling of purpose, and which ones are crazy-making. What a power it is to choose which to use and when to use them.  

Words create everything from life to death. And it matters not if they are voiced inside or outside one’s head, written or just visualized, bound in books or unbounded and shipped into the Universe on sound waves.  

So, I’ll write for the rest of my life, while I live the rest of my life. Plus, when I pen my words, it’s like giving back what thousands of authors gave to me: a big world of books with no earthbound borders.  

Loving Gift of Literacy  

I believe that the most loving gift to give a child is a book, which is more than just words: it’s a life of learning and a love for literacy. More important, I am committed to supporting young children on their communication journeys.  

This is the culmination of Nevada Reading Week, but the time is always right to read to your child or any other youngster. We can each use our talents, gifts and dollars to support literacy and early childhood reading. I was honored when I read to students at Rainbow Dreams Academy, and it was a delight. The children loved the custom book that had their teacher’s name and their own school’s name on the dedication page: Ms. Carolyn Clark’s Wonderful First-Grade Class Helps Scooby-Doo Solve a Mystery.  

If, at any time, you encounter a child in a home with no books (and sadly some have nothing beyond the TV guide), that is a rare opportunity to fill a tragic gap with loving words.  

I will help you, too, by donating one from my stash of pre-owned books for kids, or I will co-sponsor the gift of a brand new, hardcover, custom-printed, full-color book from Personalized Books and More. Each title has the child’s own name, friends, pets or family members’ names to help boys and girls experience some of the childhood wonderment I did in my youth.  

Just let me know via email or phone wherever I can help spread love through literacy.