Did you ever read a book once, only to find that years later it would haunt the back of your mind- tiny details of it floating along, fascinating you and aggravating you while the title of the book eluded you completely? I've been thinking of a book for months now... I suspect I read it somewhere around age 10... it was about a girl who finds herself in a strange house, where things change... rooms change, and it seems to be inhabited by people who can't be there... I remember something about a school room... and a man (or male character) that the girl talks to... and she begins to question whether he is real or not... and he asks how she truly knows that anything is real... I remember also that something about the garden was significant, but I don't know why that was.
I don't remember anything else about this book, but I so desperately wish I did. I don't even really know if it was truly a good book or if there was just something in it that made those little bits cling to my memory like they do. I wish a little more of it would come back to me...
About Me
- January
- I grew up in what my dad called a family of twentieth-century nomads. We lived all over the eastern United States and Canada, at last count I had moved 15 times in my life. I've also travelled to Chile and Germany. I feel like I've been everywhere, but I still want to go everywhere I haven't been. I like history, old jazz, good books, little children, knitting, and having long, late conversations with fascinating people.
No comments:
Post a Comment