I fell in love with Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time when I was a kid. Up until then I read mostly historical fiction (Thank you, American Girls books . . .) and Nancy Drew. The idea of interplanetary travel was new and I didn’t so much read as inhaled the series.
I didn’t pick up L’Engle’s work again until my senior year in high school, when I read Walking on Water on a sweaty stank-tomb of a bus on my way back from Mexico.
You know when you sink into a hot tub on a frigid winter night? At first your entire body screams H*** NO!! But then the pain subsides and your muscles relax like ice cream melting on hot concrete during a Californian 4th of July. It’s a giant hug from the tub.