Recently, I discovered that Dean Butler (the guy who plays Almanzo Wilder on Little House on the Prairie) wrote an autobiography. My inner child woke up, screamed at the top of her lungs, and insisted that we read that autobiography with great haste. (Side note: Butler narrates his own autobiography as an audio book. If that brings you the same amount of joy it brought me, my work here is done.)
Reading his autobiography reminded me just how much I loved LHOTP as a kid. I devoured the books first – my parents had to convince me to give the show a chance. It’s not that I was a cool kid by any means, but even 1990’s Sarah was reluctant to watch something so ancient. But once I saw the show, it became a ritual. I’d get up in the morning, grab my cereal, and begrudgingly sit through the end credits of Bananas in Pajamas while waiting for Little House. If there’s an episode I haven’t seen, I’d be shocked. I used to be able to tell what episode it was just from the guest stars on the opening credits.
Earlier this year, I read The Frozen River by Ariel Lawhon. Thematically, these books have little in common besides being historical fiction based on a real person. But something about Lawhon’s book brought back the feeling of Little House for me. A grown-up Little House, certainly. The whole book is pretty intense. But between the drama, there were moments of deep love and a coziness that gave me those vibes. (Look, I’m no psychologist. I don’t know why my brain made the connection.) After reading too many World War II books over the last four or five years, Frozen River reminded me why, deep down, I love historical fiction.
If you are also a fan of historical fiction, look into Frozen River and give it a shot. (Check the trigger warnings first. As I said earlier, it’s an intense book.) There’s a good chance it’ll end up on my top 10 of the year because of how much it has stuck with me.