Far too many nights of my childhood were spent huddled under the covers, straining to read the pages before me with the weak aid of a flashlight.  I punished my vision with stories about ghosts, dragons, and life on other planets.  I forwent hours of sleep in order to spend more time in the world of Greek mythology or to unravel, along with Nancy Drew, the clue of the leaning chimney.  The morning found me bleary-eyed and trembling, exhausted from the journey.