Sometimes Adventure doesn’t begin with a sword or a map — it begins with a quiet moment in a school library, a strange title on a low shelf, and the courage to choose a book you don’t quite understand yet. This week in Rediscovered Realms, I’m sharing a single rediscovered relic — the fantasy novel that opened the wardrobe for me and forever changed the way I looked at magic, imagination, and the promise of adventure beyond our world.
Hey, thanks for reading Rediscovered Realms! Join 3,000+ other adventurers for FREE (butConsider a PAID Subscription for a ton of epic perks) to receive weekly fun fantasy posts and Keep the Adventure Going Strong!
This post may contain affiliate links, which means we may receive a commission, at no cost to you, if you make a purchase through a link.
A Childhood Choice, a Ticking Clock, and a Door that Never Truly Closed
This was the first fantasy book I ever chose for myself.
I discovered The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in elementary school, sometime between the ages of eight and ten. Our class was instructed to pick any book we wanted - as long as it was a novel. That alone felt momentous. Up until this point I usually gravitated toward Guinness Book of World Records and Ripley’s Believe It or Not–style curiosities, but this time, we were being nudged toward something . . . bigger.
Time was short.
The checkout clock was ticking.
I don’t remember what drew me to that low shelf - but something that I shall forever be grateful for did.
The title was strange enough to spark curiosity. The Lion. The Witch. The Wardrobe. Three words that felt oddly mismatched and mysterious. Seeing that it was part of a series with other intriguing names like Prince Caspian, and The Magician’s Nephew sealed the spell. I had no grand plan. I didn’t even know what kind of book I should be picking.
But picking it up felt exciting.
Important.
Like choosing a door.
What it made me feel then
Reading this book was pure magic.
Before “portal fantasy” was a term, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe opened a secret world - one hidden just behind an ordinary object in an ordinary home. A place full of talking animals, ancient evil, quiet courage, and the pull of destiny.
I remember being completely captivated by the idea of stepping through a wardrobe into another world. After reading it, I never looked at lampposts the same way again. (I also developed a powerful urge to explore every relative’s dresser and armoire whenever I visited!)
Aslan.
The White Witch.
Mr. Tumnus.
Turkish Delight.
Those images etched themselves permanently into my imagination.
When I finished the book, I didn’t just want another story - I yearned for adventure. And you can bet I checked out the next book in the series right away (numbered differently back then): Prince Caspian.
What it still gives me now
Years later, after moves and life scattered many of my childhood books to the wind, rediscovering my love of fantasy reignited a deep desire to reclaim these stories - these editions.
Not a modern printing.
Not a sleek redesign.
It had to be those covers.
Tracking down the old Macmillan boxed set with Roger Hane’s illustrations took longer than expected - and a fair bit of patience - but I finally found one at a reasonable price. The only flaw? The previous owner had written their last name along the edge of every volume in permanent black marker.
Thankfully, once they’re nestled in the illustrated box sleeve, the books look pristine.
Re-reading the series as an adult surprised me. The magic still worked. The pull toward adventure and escape remained strong. Some volumes felt jarring with their shifting protagonists - but that, too, gave them the quality of a fairy tale. Not everything needs exhaustive lore or endless exposition or continuous character arcs ad nauseum.
Children grow up.
Worlds change.
Just as Edmund, Peter, Lucy, and Susan once did.
They felt like family then. And in many ways, they still do - because their strengths and flaws live in all of us.
As a quiet tribute to my inner child, I keep this boxed set of The Chronicles of Narnia on my desk, always within view. A reminder of the power of fantasy. Of reading. Of imagination.
Most of all, I keep them there because The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe wasn’t just a portal fantasy - it was my portal.
The book that opened the door to a lifelong love of reading . . . and of Fantasy itself.
A question by the hearth 🔥
What was your first fantasy book - the one that opened the door to your imagination? Was it a choice that called to you . . . a moment of serendipitous magic?
Spread Adventure Awesomeness! Don’t just Stare - SHARE! If you know other Adventurers who would enjoy this newsletter, please share it with them directly or on social media.
These were the covers that i had as a 12 y/o, and still have on one of my bookshelves. There was a Walden books down the street ( maybe a mile) that i would hit for fantasy sci-fi and history( mainly ww2) , of which i still own most of the books from that time. ( i did purge a couple thousand some time back...still have too many)
Pretty crazy to think of Lewis and Tolkien writing their classics simultaneously. My friends and I cannot even come up with a date to get together to play Gloomhaven without difficulty. :
These were the covers that i had as a 12 y/o, and still have on one of my bookshelves. There was a Walden books down the street ( maybe a mile) that i would hit for fantasy sci-fi and history( mainly ww2) , of which i still own most of the books from that time. ( i did purge a couple thousand some time back...still have too many)
Pretty crazy to think of Lewis and Tolkien writing their classics simultaneously. My friends and I cannot even come up with a date to get together to play Gloomhaven without difficulty. :