“All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, ‘Oh, why can’t you remain like this for ever!’ This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up.”
– J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Thank God this rule doesn’t apply to books! I’m an Emergency Medical Responder living on the prairies and staring down the barrel of my late twenties and sometimes it can be a bit… grown up. Books are the ultimate Neverland, and nobody but me decides what to read.

As a reformed Bachelor of English Lit, I delight in taking my opinions for a walk through the YA Fantasy section in particular. No more Chaucer, just anatomy textbooks and unapologetically pulpy vampire novels. Cynics and literature purists need not apply.


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