“Where The Wild Things Are” was without doubt one of my favourite books when I was a kid. I must have read it at least a thousand times and the sense that I was being taken on magical journey never really diminished. To this day I still want my room to transform in the same way Max’s did after being sent to bed without supper and I still want to own a pointy eared romper suit complete with those natty whiskers. What I really liked about the book was the fact it wasn’t afraid of scaring kids or showing them that being the ruler of a land of big , lumbering monsters isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Also the ending never failed to leave me feeling totally bereft even though I knew precisely what was coming.
flotsam and jetsam
2 a: a floating population (as of emigrants or castaways)
