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My love affair with words started in a Brooklyn apartment in the 1970s. After hearing Chicken Little read to me so many times, I was able to hold the book and pretend to be reading as I recited the story from memory. So when my parents overheard me at two years old talking alone in my bedroom with a book in my hand, they assumed that's what I was doing. But as they got closer they saw I was holding Bing Bang Pig--a book they'd never read to me before.
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