When Alex was five her grandfather would read to her every time she visited him. Every visit without fail he would have a new book to share with her. He read fairy tales from all over the world, science fiction, farming almanacs, history, The New York Times, whatever took his fancy in the moment. And Alex loved it. She loved the way her grandfather's voice could transport her to anywhere and anytime in the universe. She loved the feeling of safety sitting in her grandfather's lap with his arm protectively around her. Most of all she loved that her grandfather took the time to show her the worlds that exist in books. Her grandmother would flit in and out of the library from time to time, bringing a cup of tea and piece of fruit cake for Grandfather and a glass of milk and an iced cookie for Alex; always star shaped and always pink. And always with the same comment: 'Why do you read that to her? She's a princess and should be hearing stories about princesses marrying princes and living happily ever after.' Grandfather always had the same reply, 'If Alex wants to be a princess and marry a prince she can.' And after Grandmother left the room Grandfather would hold Alex a little bit tighter and whisper to her that if she wanted to be a lawyer she could be. He had a different profession every time. A baker, school teacher, pilot, athlete, dolphin trainer, electrician, accountant, nurse, farmer, mechanic, police officer, doctor, painter. The list of things Alex could be was endless. That was one more reason she loved her grandfather and sought his company so often. It wasn't just the books he read that opened the world to her; it was the words he said. He made her feel like she really could be anything she wanted.

When Alex was nine her grandfather passed away. He left his entire library to Alex. Since Alex would one day inherit the Cabot mansion, it was decided the books would remain in the house. Alex would visit her books as often as possible, but without her grandfather it didn't feel right to go into the library. She would stand in the doorway and scan the shelves. She knew some of the books by their spine and her mind would flash back to moments of her grandfather reading from them. It was six months before she could set foot in the room and bring herself to touch the books. She would stand in front of the shelves and pull a book out and start reading. She stumbled over a few of the words, but her grandfather's voice guided her. His voice guided her through the difficult words in the book, and the difficult emotions she had been dealing with since he died. The difficult emotion was usually her grandmother. Just as Alex had come to the conclusion that life without her grandfather just wasn't the same, her grandmother walked in and made the same comment she'd always made – 'Why are you reading that? You're a princess and should be reading stories about princesses marrying princes and living happily ever after.' That was the comment that made her life difficult. Alex needed to know she could be something other than a princess if she chose to be. Being nine wasn't the same as being five, but surely being older meant she could do more or be more. Being a princess couldn't possibly be the only option for her future, could it?

When Alex was ten she took a book from the library home with her. Her grandfather had given her a book for her birthday for as long as she could remember. It was a tradition Alex didn't want to end. She knew she should be getting ready for the birthday party her grandmother had planned, but without a book from her grandfather it just didn't feel like a birthday. Alex didn't want to choose the book, that wasn't the way birthday presents from Grandfather worked. They were always a surprise and always something Grandfather chose himself. Alex remembered a book she had been read many years ago about people finding water with a stick. She wasn't looking for water, and there weren't any sticks in the library, so she improvised. Seeing Grandfather's Scrabble board in the corner she closed her eyes and picked a letter. If she was going to be guided to a book she needed the essence of a book, the building blocks of chapters, and the elements of words. Letters, Alex decided, were the elements of words. There were only twenty-six elements, but when put together in different ways they were the building blocks of the world. She took it as a good omen when the letter she chose was a G. G for Grandfather. Grandfather would be choosing the book today.