“A novel is like the bow, and the violin that produces the sound is the reader’s soul.” Stendhal When was the last time you read a great novel?  I just finished one yesterday, and it’s still with me—viscerally, like pressure in my throat and chest.  Stirring emotion and uncovering a longing that lives in melancholy and doesn’t want to be soothed. Each time I open to the first page of a new book, there is anticipation and hope.  “Will I be pulled into a totally different world?  And when the last page has been read, how difficult will it be…