Since childhood, I have been an avid reader. My appetite was honed on Enid Blyton’s library of endless imagination, the Grimm Brothers fairy tales (oh so very grim!), What Katy Did, What Katy did Next, Black Beauty, Trixie Beldon, followed later by the overly interesting adventures of the Wakefield twins in Sweet Valley High, and then by my mothers fat romance sagas. At age 16 or 17, not knowing where to begin, I asked for my friend Heidi’s recommendation for a book to introduce me to literature, having learned that there was a distinction. Her choice was Helen Garner’s quintessential Melbourne novel, Monkeygrip, and from there, I have never looked back (thanks Heidi). Books make me feel home when I am far, and far…