It's hard to believe this book really exists and I didn't just dream it up. It's so brilliant and moving to me, I don't really even think of it as a book. I think of it as a world.
Let me paint you the picture: imagine 11 year old me, sitting on a fluffy carpet at 12 a.m. in a cozy suburban Jessheim flat. Snow falls outside and the sky, beyond the foggy windows, is red and yellow-tinged with the sleeplessness of the polar night There's a cup of chocolate beside me, hardly touched and cold by now. A book lies open on my lap. My eyes are wide open. My soul soars on the soft white wings of the Luckdragon.