In 1991, I read Gone with the Wind in the back of my dad's pickup truck during our move from South Carolina to Washington State. Ever since, it has been my all-time favorite book. The copy I read was a hardbound, 1939 edition with each page set in two columns. As a novel, it was one last farewell to a mythic South which existed only in print and celluloid--that is to say, in the imagination. As a novel being read by me, it was also a farewell of its kind, as I did not return to South Carolina until 2001. It's a place that for all of its faults, some major and some less major, I love dearly and always will. Just like this book.