The north Georgia battlefield has always had a special place in my heart, long before it hosted my very first marathon.
I've been climbing on cannons there before I could even say the word "cannon." It's a beautiful place. Beautiful in that haunting way though, because you know just how much was lost there.
But I digress....the book was A Mockingbird Sang at Chickamauga.

I really enjoyed it. It begins in the summer of 1863, in the weeks leading up to the battle in mid-September. It intertwines the stories of several soldiers, the majority of whom fought for the south (after all, the writer was from Kentucky). Having grown up in this area, the author's description of places was so easy for me to visualize. Of course I see them with 21st century eyes, but I've seen enough photos from the Civil War to have a good idea of what it looked like in the drought-stricken summer of 1863.
You wouldn't think that a book about 150 year old war would be a real page turner, especially considering I knew quite well the outcome of this particular battle, but I blew through the pages. And speaking of pages....I love reading an old book. The smell is so intoxicating. Yes, I'm one of those weirdos who will stick her nose in the middle of an old book....just to inhale its musty scent. I won't go so far as to say that I will *never* own an e-reader, but I can't imagine giving up the feel of a page between my fingers.































