Tim L. Williams's Blog

I'm not talking about the cigarette brand, but what I consider one of the most fortunate days in my life. This was mid July, one of those miserable days we get in my part of Kentucky, days when the temperature hovers close to a hundred and the air is so thick with moisture it feels as if even the buildings are sweating, but it won't rain. For some reason, sunstroke was the buzzword with my mother that year, and I was forbidden from playing outside. It made sense, but I was nine and had little use for good sense. If I manifested any talent at all as a kid, it was for being a monumental pain in the butt. I must have put it to good and thorough use that day because by lunchtime, my mom had had enough. She ordered me to put on my shoes--and a cap, sunstroke, remember-- and told me she'd be waiting in the car. In one of my stories, she would have dropped me in the river or at least thought darn hard about it. Instead, she drove six miles to the public library and dragged me through the front door.

And my life was never the same again. Worlds opened to me. I know this is not an uncommon experience, that there is nothing remarkable about it at all really, but it was one of the biggest moments of my life. Understand. My family wasn't dirt poor, but we were a long way from wealthy or even middle class. Books were gifts reserved for birthdays and Christmas. Walking into that little public library in Central City, Kentucky, was like the moment the training wheels came off my bike. I could fly! Ask any bird or pilot, and they'll tell you. Flying is mighty fine.

Now as I begin this blog and await the publication of my collection of short stories, I want to do the obvious and thank all the librarians out there who work so hard and have had such a large effect on so many lives. For kids like me, public libraries are the lifeblood of the imagination. They allow us to dream. They change our lives. I hope as a nation we never forget that when it comes to supporting and funding those libraries and, of course, for giving librarians the respect and the appreciation they deserve.

My first lucky strike came on the day I walked into a library for the first time. I can remember endless hours drifting through the aisles, reading titles and first pages, trailing my finger over the spines. One of the coolest days in my life will come this spring when I get to walk into the same library where I spent so much of my childhood and see my book on the shelf. I'm big guy, fairly tough, so I'm pretty sure I'm not going to cry when that happens, but I plan to stuff my pockets with tissue. Better safe than sorry right?