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I reread a childhood favorite in one night. Who can forget the cozy Murry kitchen, the way science and religion are valued equally, tesseracts and planet adventures. If a book can be a warm blanket, this is mine.

When I as young, I loved Meg because I felt as awkward as her, and also as unable to grasp a boy ever liking me the way Calvin just does. But I also had those weird insights in ways not quite as dramatic as Charles Wallace, so I was all of those kids. And my Dad worked all the time, maybe not on another planet, but far enough away for my Mom to run the household, minus the science experiments and liverwurst-and-cream cheese sandwiches.