The Making of a Nancy Boy

My mother turned me into a Nancy Boy. She caused reading to become an integral part of my life with bedtime stories which included the classic fairy tales as well as books which have fallen out of favor, such as "Little Black Sambo." She also blew the dust off of her childhood favorites, the Nancy Drew mystery series. I have loved mysteries since I was a child, including popular TV shows that featured ghosts and haunted houses. As a consequence and a result of my first straight-A report card in third grade, my father decided to reward me by taking the family to the new movie, "Night of the Living Dead." I threw up all night, and was afraid my parents would eat me anytime they drew near to comfort me.


Because of my mother and Nancy Drew, I knew how to read before I was packed off to kindergarten at Baylake Pines. Nancy Drew lived in a magical world where there was an abundance of haunted mansions and nefarious criminals. Her sidekicks, Bess and George introduced me to an alternative lifestyle. George, obviously destined to become a woman who wore sensible shoes, flannel shirts, and a keychain attached to her 501 Levis with a heavy chain had a cousin named Bess who was a girly-girl who would have a lesbian relationship at Vassar before marrying a corporate attorney and having 2.5 kids. Nancy's father, Carson Drew, was a lawyer, and although Nancy's mother was dead and gone, Nancy grew up under the guidance of a middle-aged housekeeper named Hannah Gruen. The author of the series was Carolyn Keene, a pseudonym for a man who wrote other children's books as well, including (I believe) the less popular Dana Girls series. The Dana Girls were trailer park trash compared to Nancy and her friends. They probably smoked cigarettes.


I was hooked on Nancy Drew after the first book my mom read to me, "The Secret in the Old Attic." This book featured a bug-eyed black maid named Effie who spent much of her time screaming and running around like a chicken with her head cut off. Other Nancy Drew adventures included "The Bungalow Mystery," "The Clue in the Crumbling Wall," and "The Postman Always Rings Twice." No, wait a minute.


Nancy Drew gave way to Freddy the Pig, the Old Mother West Wind books, Lewis Carroll, "Charlotte's Web," "Harriet the Spy," and "The Phantom Tollbooth." My treehouse became my library, where I taught my dog Pebbles to climb trees. Well, kinda. Reading became an important part of my life, and I would often read three or four books at a time. In second grade I was assigned to be a reading coach to a sullen fourth grader. As I grew older I turned to Henry James, Thomas Hardy, Kafka, Flannery O'Connor, Orwell, and Kurt Vonnegut. I read "Gone with the Wind" five times before graduating from high school.


Books make good friends. They are portable, and won't chirp, beep, or time out on you. They will accompany you, sans batteries or wireless connection, to the shore of the sea or the banks of a lake, waiting silently until you pick them up and allow them to speak. And they can speak volumes, no pun intended. Books can narrow your focus as they broaden your perspective. Books have enlightened mankind, provided mindless entertainment, and helped change the course of history. Books are powerful, spawning enormous libraries and blazing bonfires.


When it's time for a child's birthday or a special celebration, give a book. When asked to read a bedtime story to a youngster (I love that word. First we are youngsters; then we are youths), jump up and say "yes." Take a child to a library to get a library card. Books transcend economic barriers, and they are always able to transport a reader to different realities.


One of the best gifts my mother gave me was the desire to read. Let's keep it going.


p.s. I still have my Nancy Drew books; and, if you'd like to know more about the author, click here.