You might be wondering why I'm reading this or why it's taken me so long to read this and allow me to tell you a brief story. When I was in sixth grade, we had the choice between band and literary...something. I did band, not because I didn't enjoy reading, but because I liked flute and my friends were doing it and it was just the "thing to do." Of course, I ended up hating flute, but that's another story. My sixth grade teacher had the rest of the class (those that weren't in band) read Where the Red Fern Grows. I was close to this teacher, we both shared a love of literature, knew each other's families, and she really pushed me as a writer and acknowledged my talent. She told me that even though I hadn't read it with the class, I should read Where the Red Fern Grows. She passed away the next year. I still haven't read it, but I go to college in less than two weeks and I think she's probably up in Heaven shaking her fist at me for having not read it yet, so this is for her, honestly. I hope I love it, even though I know how it ends. It would just feel wrong of me to hate it.

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I have since finished and while it is definitely not going to become a favorite of mine, it will nevertheless hold a place in my heart. I am glad to have read it.

-Book Hugger