Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

Before Harry Potter, my childhood included a vast array of books, and I devoured each one I opened. My mother insisted on mandatory trips to the library during school breaks. I eagerly checked out the maximum they allowed. A few days later, I would beg her for another trip, which elicited groans from my siblings. To make my reading material last longer, I added my excess to their weekly allotment of one easy read and snatched them back as we headed to the car.

I remember impressive titles like Where the Wild Things Are, Watership Down, A Wrinkle in Time, Artemis Fowl, The Polar Express, and The Neverending Story. I also read every entry on the school’s summer reading list and borrowed the recommendations from the next grade level to feed my habit. During my freshman year in high school, I encountered a tale that changed everything. The Once and…