For me, most holidays have some association with books. Christmas is Little Women and Debbie Macomber’s Angel books; Halloween is The Haunting of Hill House
and assorted ghost stories; even the Fourth of July has Rainbow Valley and Rilla of Ingleside (I’m not sure why I’m reading about Canada on the Fourth of July, but there you go)– but Thanksgiving’s got nothing.
I remember spending the Thanksgiving of 8th grade riveted to Stephen King’s It, fascinated and horrified. Another year it was Joan Wolf’s Edge of Light, equally random, if with somewhat fewer demented homicidal clowns.
This year, I’m kicking off the holiday with a re-read of one of my favorite British chick lit novels, Liz Young’s Fair Game, which makes me feel all nostalgic about Christmas in London. Because, naturally, it makes sense to spend Thanksgiving reading about a culture which doesn’t have a Thanksgiving. But I don’t have any one book or set of book that says “Thanksgiving” to me. It’s purely the whim of the moment.
What about you? Do you have a favorite Thanksgiving read?