How could it not make you happy?

One of my earliest memories is reading in the bed under the covers. And always getting caught. I shared a room with my sister, and she was always clever enough to turn her flashlight off first. So I was always getting into trouble.

The first book I remember reading multiple times was The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz, even though we had to read it in school, I still remember many of the scenes, even now, some 25 years later. My younger brother and I spent many hours talking about that book. I remember reading Slaughterhouse-Five a few times. And lots of F. Scott Fitzgerald. I can still remember the plots of many of his short stories. For example The Diamond As Big As The Ritz. Hemingway stories, too. And Bellow. And…

More books will come back to now, since just writing this retrieved some memories. Likely while I am busy trying to concentrate on something else.

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