one of my goals for last weekend's little whirlwind trip was to hole up in my hotel room and finally finish a.s byatt's "the children's book". i started it in early summer and although i loved it, it kept being put aside for other reading. i've always felt that in a past life i lived in edwardian england. i felt completely at home in this book. years ago i devoured byatt's "possession". i've never read a fiction authour who sees and writes so much like a visual artist. her descriptions make me swoon. so when i finally finished this 700 page book, i was sad that it was over.