Today I read a cool post with a ghost story over at Confessions From A Working Mom . It got me thinking about the ghost stories I have enjoyed reading over time. During my grade school years, I would constantly have a book with me. If it wasn't a classic (...ahhh The Catcher in the Rye and Little Women were favories), it was a ghost story. One of my favorite books has always been Rebecca, by Daphne Du Maurier. Now that isn't a traditional ghost story, like perhaps Dickens' A Christmas Carol or Straub's Ghost Story. But it was a haunting tale of life and love lost. I read this book at least once a year.
Something I don't tell a lot of people - I could read in kindergarten. Full sentences. No one else could, and the teacher made a big deal about it, so I lied and said I had the book at home and read it with my mom a lot. Total lie. It was the first time I had seen the book. But my love affair with books had begun. I devoured anything I could, and usually read above my grade level in school - thus why I read The Catcher in the Rye in grade school. One of the things about motherhood is that I have no time to read anymore. It's something I really miss.