Despite being a child that did not agree with being naughty, Where the Wild Things Are became one of my favorite books. From Max in his wolf costume chasing after his dog, to wild things hanging off trees and roaring their terrible roars, I saw my desires enacted on the page. I wanted to roar. I wanted to act up and be bad. I wanted to be queen of the wild things. Except without repercussions. And I could be, in my imagination. I became Max as I read, and enacted the wild things within me that I couldn’t in public, something I continue to do today, if with different books.