Sometimes you can go home again and everything is just the same. I first discovered Flowers for Algernon in a fifth grade language arts class. It was back in the 1970s when learning modules were all the rage and 2 kids would partner up with a kit and basically teach each other. My friend Carol and I burned through the entire module pretty quickly so our teacher assigned us some books, and this one bore its way through my brain and into my heart.

Many years later when it was a Kindle deal of the day I decided to see if a childhood love of mine still held up. A lot of the things I loved in the 1970s seem very silly these days, but not Flowers for Algernon. Once again I devoured the entire novel in an afternoon and was reduced to a weeping puddle, sobbing for the loss of innocence and intellect. This book tears my heart out, in all the right ways.