Oliver Wendell Holmes once said, "Youth fades; love droops, the leaves of friendship fall; A mother's secret hope outlives them all." It's a deep-set hope, enmeshed in all that will make a child's life better. I am who I am because my parents read to me.

It's difficult to imagine a different life. Books have always been a part of it. And, when I read the biographies of my favorite writers, I find similar experiences. It seems that many writers and bibliophiles are initially drawn to reading because of their mother's passion for books.

When I think about motherly influences, reading and writing, I like to recall Charlotte Gordon's biography of Anne Bradstreet. Given that biography, and the countless other novels and biographies by or about women, I can only feel blessed by the ease of my life compared with the many demands mothers of previous generations have experienced. How did they do it? And how have you been affected--by mother writers in literary history, and by your own mother? Have they helped you to love literature more, or offered an angst-ridden legacy? Here's what some writers have written about mothers...

• To My Mother
• Mother o' Mine
• Mother and Babe
• Mother's Day Proclamation
• Ah, Woe is Me, My Mother Dear
• Little Women

How have mothers affected your love of literature? Is there a mother in literature that you like to remember? How do you like to think of motherhood on this day?

Every person's life is worth a novel (that was the title of a book on writing I read a number of years ago). But, for readers like us, a novel marks the greatest moments of our lives as well. You must remember the first book you ever read. And, then, through the years, you've likely marked many of your most memorable times by the associated novel or book or poem. Or, perhaps, your life has been more about the literature you've read after the fact--that reminds you of those moments in your life. Perhaps you recall those passages that "found" you--like revisited memories--to offer some meaning or epiphany for your life experience.

Sometimes the parallels between literature and life become more concrete. We may be inspired to write about it... just like William Deresiewicz.

In her review of William Deresiewicz's new book, A Jane Austen Education: How Six Novels Taught Me About Love, Friendship, and the Things That Really Matter, Michelle Wiener extols upon the joys of finding another Jane Austen fan (and not just any fan, but one who marks the passage of years--his life--by the many parallel he finds with Jane Austen's famous novels. How have they shaped him? And, then--by extension--how have those novels shaped you?

Think about it! What did Pride and Prejudice give you? Did it teach you to learn from your mistakes, or something about growing up? Did it make you think about your place in society? What about Mansfield Park, Austen's famous Cinderella tale? Do you have a similar rags-to-riches story to tell? Or did it teach you about relationships? Perhaps, you were more fascinated by the tenacity of a single young woman, as she attempts to make her way in the world.

Did you discover a new world view from Emma, or about relationships from Persuasion? With the plots and subplots, themes and meanings--Jane Austen's novels may have pushed and pulled you in a number of different directions... as with so many other great writers and their masterworks.

Great books seep into our lives as we read them. If we let them, books return to us again and again, offering solace or wisdom. They stand as reflections of the great influencers of the past, but also as signposts for the future. Through us--through the way they affect our lives and our reading--the great works of literature will continue to mark us and become an inextricable part of the stories we must tell...

How have books affected you? What's your literature-inspired story?

I remember the first time I read Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird--I was transfixed. And, parts of that novel have stayed with me--almost haunting. The characters are memorable (of course), as is the situation.

A white lawyer defends a black man for a crime he did not commit. But, there's more than just controversy. We are drawn into this story of a young girl, Scout--she experiences racism, fear and some of the other confusions/complications of growing up. To Kill a Mockingbird is both a brilliant rendering of a specific time and place as well as a universal tale of how understanding can triumph over old and evil mindsets.

Atticus wants his children to be openminded, as he says: "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... 'til you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it." And, he wants them to understand the meaning of courage: "It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do."

Literature allows us to get into the thoughts and feelings of characters in ways that are much more difficult in "real" life. Maybe we're just busy; maybe the other person's life really doesn't seem that interesting or worth consideration... But, through great fiction, we can gain an understanding of even the worst characters--as we climb into their skins with all those human foibles and idiosyncrasies.

So, today, we can celebrate that famous novel, as we applaud its author. Harper Lee was born on April 28, 1926. Happy Birthday Harper Lee!

On days (like today), it's hard to sit inside and work--the sun is shining and the trees are weaving their hypnotic, meandering dance (a jig in the light, Spring breeze). All the sights and sounds just make me want more. The flowers are weighing down the branches--purple & yellow, with a spring-green backdrop. And, I'm sure I'd see a multitude of floral arrangements in gardens interspersed. It's Spring! It's intoxicating.

And, of course, I can't help but think of An April Day, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:

"When the warm sun, that brings
Seed-time and harvest, has returned again,
'T is sweet to visit the still wood, where springs
The first flower of the plain.

"I love the season well,
When forest glades are teeming with bright forms,
Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell
The coming-on of storms."

I want to visit the woods. I want to drink in Springtime. I find myself reading Spring, in Walden, by Henry David Thoreau: "We should be blessed if we lived in the present always, and took advantage of every accident that befell us, like the grass which confesses the influence of the slightest dew that falls on it; and did not spend our time in atoning for the neglect of past opportunities, which we call doing our duty. We loiter in winter while it is already spring."

Now, tell me (please do), where does this day find you? Inside or out? Studying, working, playing, reading, writing... being?