I read this book in elementary school, having checked it out from our school library. I was born in Arkansas and spent most of my summers there with my father's family, but from age 5 to 16, I was raised by my mother and her unfortunate husband at the time in his home state of Kentucky. My childhood was harsh to say the least, and I often escaped through books when I was allowed to read, or found a way to do so in secret. To find this book, covered in dust in the back of my run-down elementary school library (and I do mean run-down, the building was condemned shortly after my 6th grade year), was fascinating to me. It's a short read, I remember finishing it in a matter of hours, then carefully going over it again and again until its due date. Seeing myself written into those pages-- I've never seen it again, but it's one I remember dearly, right down to the smell of those pages and the texture of the dingy green/brown cloth cover over the binding. This book brought me home during a time I felt isolated from who I was. I know it's more of a coming of age story, but for me, it was a coming home story.