Thanks for the memories - Karen Bush
Books do so many jobs - they educate, entertain, inspire, or offer you a place to escape to when you need it. They can also be incredibly evocative: pick any title I've read, and it summons up in my mind's eye the time and place when I first read it: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe: I'm behind the sofa in my great uncle's house in Belfast. It's dim and dusty there, but it's the only private place I can find to read in, where no-one can see me sobbing over Aslan's death. My Friend Flicka: In my bunk bed, reading (after I was supposed to be asleep) by the dim light filtering in through the glass panel over the top of the bedroom door. The Hobbit: Sprawled on my stomach on the dining room floor of my grandparents house on a blisteringly hot summer day, and trying to ignore the constant interruptions asking if I wouldn't rather go outside to play. (No! Of course not! Bilbo's trying to beat Gollum at riddles. Go away!) The Dark is R...