Just how much do writers’ childhood memories shape the people–and authors–they become? Oh, hardly at all. Really. Take Lisa, for instance…

I have vivid memories of my first-grade reading group. We sat in a semicircle in little wooden chairs. At the far end stood our teacher, Mrs. Roper, beside an easel holding a copy of Our Big Red Storybook. We took turns reading aloud from the smaller versions we held in our laps.

Some of you may remember siblings Tom, Betty, and Susan of Ginn Basic Reader Series fame. They had a dog named Flip. The little sister (Susan) had a toy bunny. Its name was…Bunny. And they all lived on Cherry Street.

When our group moved on to a higher level in the series, things took a downward turn. Bad things happened to Bunny. Susan lost him in the book On Cherry Street. In the cleverly titled chapter “Where is Bunny?” she couldn’t find her stuffed friend anywhere, including the toy box.

Instead of helping Susan as directed by their mother, Tom and Betty checked out all their toys in the toy box—I think there was a monkey. Tom played with his airplane. “Zoom! Zoom!” Betty chose the train.

Those two were no Bert and Nan Bobbsey. I knew that because I was already working my way through the Bobbsey Twins series. Tom and Betty had the personalities of the bendy 50s family that lived in my dollhouse. But poor Susan. Poor Bunny. Had he fallen victim to a stranger offering candy? Was he stolen? Torn apart in the backyard by a jealous Flip? Was he shivering in the rain or lying smack in the middle of Cherry Street, where a truck was sure to flatten the stuffing out of him?

Mrs. Roper encouraged us to read our sections “with expression.” I’m not sure how she kept a straight face as we delivered our dramatic lines. But the exercise was right up my alley. My mom and older sister had taken to calling me “Sarah Bernhardt.” They told me she was a famous actress. (Later I learned Miss Bernhardt was known for . . . later 19th-century stage melodrama. How outRAGEous!)

Anyway, I’d already learned all about expression from Bert and Nan Bobbsey’s little sister, Flossie. She always got her siblings’ attention. Like, when her cat Snoop was kidnapped or caught on a kite, or her twin Freddie got avalanched in a snow house, she’d scream: “Oh! Oh!”—and they both came running. Pronto.  

I poured out Susan’s concern and guilt over Bunny as if the bwasted wabbit were tied to a set of railroad tracks.

Unlike the Bobbsey Twins of Lakeport, Tom, Betty, and Susan did zero detective work. Bunny was soon deposited straight to their door by a local delivery boy. Susan had left him in a store. Okay, fine. I’ll let you judge which siblings were better cozy mystery sleuths.

Recently I helped my grandson with his kindergarten homework. Assignment: Read 2 books from the classroom library aloud to someone in your family. He read the first book perfectly—and painfully. It was a true snoozer. A little girl wanted a pony for her birthday. Her mom said no and took her to see a pony in a field. The End. I almost missed Tom, Betty, and the ever-suffering Susan.

“Maybe that story needs more expression,” I said, as my grandson pretended to slide out of his chair from boredom.

“No,” he said. “It needs a mystery.”

Oh! Oh! I couldn’t have agreed more.

Readers, do you remember the first book (or mystery) you ever read on your own? Or a book you loved having someone read to you?

LISA Q. MATHEWS is a regular contributor to Chicks on the Case and the author of the Irish B&B Mysteries, the Ladies Smythe & Westin series, short mystery fiction, and many kids’ books. Visit her website and sign up for her newsletter at lisaqmathews.com.