I was an addict by age seven and it was all my school-teacher’s mother’s fault. The gift she brought me from the State Teacher’s Meeting looked innocent enough, a Bobbsey Twin mystery, “The Secret at the Seashore,” but one taste of that book and I was forever enslaved. As soon as I devoured one story, I had to have another. I finished the “Bobbsey Twins series” and almost panicked. Then an older girl whispered to me about something even stronger—something called Nancy Drew. For awhile I found relief in these teen stories, but soon they weren’t strong enough. An addict will find her fix somehow and I stumbled onto The Murder of Roger Ackroyd and I started mainlining Agatha Christie. I was a goner. Nothing would stop the craving except another book and then another book. So I wonder…are there any other souls in cyberland who would like to join my therapy group?
I’ll be the one to start, “My name is Jackie, and I’m a Cozy Addict…”
