I have a lot of the books I loved as a kid. Not all of them. I didn’t save the movie novelizations I started reading non-stop when I turned eleven or so; thanks a lot Batman by Craig Shaw Gardner. Though I do highly recommend checking out the audiobook version of it read by Roddy McDowell. A friend sent that one along to me somewhat recently (I know I was listening to it for a run) and it’s awesome to hear Roddy McDowell do the Joker, even if the novelization’s way too abridged. But my Roald Dahl books? They’re all on my bookshelves today, even though I haven’t had the inclination to read one in ages. I wouldn’t even know where to start with them. My mom (with my consent) got rid of a lot of my kids’ books. Including Little Eddie by Carolyn Harwood, which I recently tracked down because I remember it being so startling a read when I was a kid—it’s a children’s book series from the late forties and early fifties. I find that era, especially how it was presented contemporaneously to children, fascinating. The Westing Game was another favorite. I read that one again for work a few years ago. It’s real good. The TV movie adaptation is not, however. I guess not having any interest in writing children affects my interest in reading about them. Maybe some day a year of Summing-Up will be nothing but Roald Dahl, but I kind of doubt it.