“I believe that magically the book we are supposed to read somehow appears in our hands at just the right time,” best-selling author Ann Hood writes in her new memoir MORNINGSTAR: Growing Up With Books, a series of essays about the books that shaped her life. I nodded constantly while reading MORNINGSTAR last month. Like Ann, my hometown didn’t have a library either. Every Saturday a Bookmobile parked at the post office across from my house, and I’d check out as many books as my little arms could cradle and carry them home. I devoured all the books I could get my hands on. Low-brow, high-brow, it didn’t matter. Nancy Drew, Agatha Christie, Ursula Le Guin. Like Ann, I remember reading Little Women over and over.

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