I am a voracious reader and have read much of the post modern and existential literature that my college English professors insisted were essential for a well rounded library. I have discussed and debated the merits of great American writers like John Steinbeck, Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald. I have thoroughly enjoyed everything ever written by Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte. I have swam inside sympathetic darkness in stories penned by Sylvia Plath and J.D. Salinger. I have succumbed to the warm, character driven storytelling of Maeve Binchy and Elizabeth Berg, and have even indulged in a bit of "chic lit" from the likes of Sophie Kinsella and Jennifer Wiener.
But my heart still belongs to Anne with an "e"....
I find myself re-reading this sweet little novel, written by the late Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery, at least once a year. I own quite a few copies of it, and will buy new ones every so often, as the binding in the old ones begin to break down. For me, this story, is such a pleasant retreat from daily news, and the heartbreaking stories my husband, who is a police officer, often shares with me after a day out in his world.
I long for a trip to Prince Edward Island, where I can experience all the environs described so beautifully in this book. Any other raspberry cordial drinking, kindred spirits out there?
Which books lend you as much comfort as hot chocolate, knitted chenille socks, and the smell of a sweet pie baking do?