I'm sentimental about this book. It was the first "adult" work that I made a stab at (when I was ten). And while most all it was beyond my comprehension, I remember reading it in the cab of my father's pickup truck in the parking lot of Orthopaedic Hospital after having been told by my doctors that the cyst in my leg had responded to treatment.

Maybe my life wouldn't turn out like Ichabod's after all? ( )