Book: Worm or Snob

Long ago, I embraced the fact that I am indeed, one of "those" people in a lot of ways. 

Especially when it involves reading material. 

Books, I don't just read. I devour. 

Ever since that fateful summer of '94 when my imminent switch from public to private school proved that I had indeed spent all of kindergarten learning how to make macaroni art, trade my applesauce for a fruit roll-up at lunch, and play a mean triangle solo during music class. 

Those placement tests made sure that I would spend the next three months buckling down every day with PB&Js and phonics, with a few super soaker breaks in between. 

By September, I read "Charlotte's Web" all by myself and became the self-proclaimed captain of the blue reading group in Mrs. T's 1st grade class. 

Followed by an intense bout through the thick spine of "Little Women," in preparation for Christian Bale. I mean, the movie adaptation. of the book.

with Christian Bale. 

After, in which I spent the following summer belting out Celine Dion's "To Love You More" and shaking my tiny fists at the sky wondering why I hadn't been born 14 years earlier. 

Christian Bale.

The stuff legends are made of, right there. 

...

All this to say, 

I need some vacation lit.

Any suggestions? 

{and for the sake of not making Louisa May Alcott roll over in her grave, let's not go down the Fifty Shades of Grey road}

xoxo

{Bon Bon}