My parents were frugal. Unlike many Americans, they would never buy anything for the purposes of impressing other people, or as any kind of luxury for themselves. But they happily bought the World Book, spending a princely sum of the time, because by doing so, they were giving the gift of knowledge to me and my sister.

They also ordered the annual companion volumes. Each year, a new volume of breakthroughs and current events would arrive – labeled 1970, 1971, 1972, 1973 – and I couldn't wait to read them.

These annual volumes came with stickers, referencing entries in the original, alphabetical World Books. My job was to attach those stickers on the appropriate pages, and I took that responsibility seriously.

I was helping to chronicle history and science for anyone who opened those encyclopedias in the future. Given how I cherished the World Book, one of my childhood dreams was be a contributor.

But it's not like you can call World Book headquarters in Chicago and suggest yourself. The World Book has to find you. A few years ago, believe it or not, the call finally came.