![]() ![]() And maybe climate change?”Įvery few years, a fuzzy memory of the crosshatched illustrations would pop into my head, and I would think, “I need to find that book.” This went on for two decades. What I remembered about the plot sounded so bizarre, I had a tough time articulating it beyond, “It’s about being wrong about everything! And archeology. That book and that thought haunted me throughout my 20s and 30s, but there was one problem: I’d completely forgotten the title and the name of the author. Instead of launching me into a downward existential spiral, the idea of being wrong about history, whether it be the symbolism of the pyramids or the color of triceratops, thrilled me. ![]() It was read to us by a teacher who was definitely rebelling against the Texas public school system’s required reading list. In just 95 black-and-white illustrated pages, that book imprinted itself on my brain and instilled in me a fleeting desire to become an archeologist. What if everything you thought you knew about the past was completely wrong? That’s the idea that blew my mind as a 10-year-old in suburban Houston, when I gleaned it from the pages of an oversized blue paperback book. ![]()
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