As a child of school teachers, there were several drawbacks to a youth spent around books. Thanks to Enid Blyton, it's still difficult to shake the mental association between smugglers and ginger beer, and discovering The Hardy Boys were written by a collection of shadow writers was hardly a cause for celebration either.

With C.S. Lewis however, you always knew what you were getting, and provided your imagination was up to it you could be transported through an amazing magical realm where you'd encounter strange creatures involved in desperate struggles, and some of the most captivating writing ever printed. Even by the time you became old enough to be irritated by the religious undertones Lewis rather unintentionally included, you still couldn't lose that desperate desire to visit Narnia, just once, just to see that goat person. And perhaps go for a ride on a sleigh.