Where the Wild Things Are, by Maurice Sendak (1963), has always been my favorite picture book. I say this realizing that it is a bit of a cliché. But it is the first book I can remember that I truly loved and would re-visit throughout my life. In kindergarten, we were allowed at some point during the day to pick a book from the small, one bookcase library, to sit and read. Every day I chose the same one, unless someone beat me to it. But I don't recall that happening at all.
The illustrations are so beautiful and while I didn't I related to Max being punished, I don't recall that happening much either. I did and still do relate to the imagination he displays. It can take you from somewhere mundane, to someplace wild.