This week, The Broke and The Bookish suggests a rewind, where we look back and choose one previous prompt and revisit it. I haven’t been blogging long enough that I really want to revisit one of the lists I’ve already done, so instead I’ll take on a list I haven’t tried yet, specifically a list of Childhood Favorites. These are books that meant a lot to me growing up. I’ve read all of these with my son, and hope they’ll mean as much to him when he grows up.
1. Harold and the Purple Crayon. This is my all-time favorite children’s book. In simple black, white, and purple, Harold creates his entire world, without limits.
2. Where the Wild Things Are. A close second to Harold is Maurice Sendak’s classic. Here Max uses his imagination to escape from a world that can barely contain his energy, but when he returns those who love him are still there for him.
3. There’s a Monster at the End of This Book. I loved this when I was a kid, and went hoarse reading it in the Grover voice nightly to my son.
4. Homer Price. The first in a long line of stories I’ve loved about intrepid, brave kids.
5. Bunnicula. With a silly structure, this was the first book that had me realizing how much I enjoyed the idea of things going bump in the night.
6. Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing. I used to read this with my sisters at night, and my younger sister was so good at reading this she was drafted into reading it permanently. We were supposed to go to bed, but when she read this we were laughing so hard we couldn’t breathe.
7. Paddington Bear. I had a stuffed Paddington, who over time lost the buttons from his felt coat, the coat itself, and the hat. It sat for the last few years on my son’s bed, and now that he’s getting older it’s moving to the bookshelf in our office.
8. James and the Giant Peach. James is a smart and sensible hero, and I identified with him quite a bit.
9. Charlotte’s Web. Reading this was the first time I really encountered someone dying, and it was the kindest, easiest way to first absorb the idea of death.
10. Winnie the Pooh. This is the calmest, simplest book I’ve ever read. These stories sort of start in progress, finish before mush is resolved, and generally wander about. It’s still great to read this and get lost in the Hundred Acre Wood for a while.
What are some of your favorites when you were younger?