John Driscoll writes: When I was in elementary school, I got strep throat all the time, a naggingly repetitive condition that didn't cease until junior high school, when I had my tonsils yanked. During these bouts of fever and scorched esophagus -- and I'll admit not all of them were real -- I read. A typical sick day would start with a liquid breakfast and a request to my mother to drive to the library and pick out every book on, say, helicopters. Or snakes. Or trees. But I don't remember any of them. What I do remember is C.S. Lewis' "The Chronicles of Narnia." From the moment my father cracked open "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" and read it to me I knew I'd be reading these books over and over when I got old enough. [More]