Years ago, in 1983 or 84, I was a bookish round boy who lived too much of his life in games, TV and imagination. One day, on a family trip to Bowring's department store I caught sight of a fantasy novel by Joel Rosenberg. Entitled The Sleeping Dragon, the cover intrigued me and the blurb on the back spoke to me like no other work of 'adult fiction' had to date. I asked my mother or father, not sure which, if I could get it. They said no as it was too close to my birthday.
Come Christmas morning, opening my presents in my stocking, I found the paperback I coveted so much in the bookstore.
I devoured that book. Probably being too young, some of the violence and themes disturbed me, kept me awake. But I loved it. I wanted to be these characters, to live this adventure.
As the years went by, the author wrote more adventures in the series and I read most of them, probably ending in the 90's when his direction differed from mine. But I always kept them in mind, rereading The Sleeping Dragon on more than one occasion and searching out all of them to give my nephew as present.
This week, this book came to me again. I wasn't sure why, but I felt the need to reread it, now being in my late thirties. Had it changed? I know I had.
It held up, being simpler, shorter and more hokey than I remember, but I still enjoyed it.
It made me reminisce. Nostalgia being a powerful force, I looked up the author on the web and read some sad news. He had passed away suddenly, only days within me having the whim to pick up the novel and read it again.
So, Joel, Mr. Rosenberg, where ever you are I want to say thanks. Thanks for teaching the value of humanity to a 10 yr old me.
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