I cannot remember not reading. At a time before nerd became a category separate from weirdo, books were my childhood escape from small-town reality. In the safe universe between their covers, I was not the odd boy building gadgets that blinked and beeped, but rather hero, explorer, and scientist. Without my books, I would probably have been lost. I now have less time for dreaming. Adulthood brings other joys, though, like reading an inspiring new book written by a friend or colleague.