In 1978, shortly after I began my “Book Nook” column of book reviews, I conducted an unscientific poll in which I asked readers and passing acquaintances what their favorite book was.
Opinion
Have you ever woken in the morning steeped in a sense of nonspecific dread? It’s undefined, and even though you have no idea what it’s about, it’s palpable. You recognize that it’s just a feeling, not a fact, yet the heaviness presses. You scan the night’s memories for a bad dream… nothing in jackboots chased you through a field, the mean girls didn’t take your coat.
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