“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” — Ray Bradbury “Yes, summer was rituals, each with its natural time and place,” Ray Bradbury reminds us in Dandelion Wine, his semi-autobiographical novel celebrating childhood in the summer of 1928. I was introduced to this magical book in middle school, back when I was old enough to appreciate its literary charm but still young enough to indulge in the simple pleasures of catching fireflies and playing flashlight tag on the lawn. Since then, I’ve made a ritual of re-reading Dandelion Wine every summer. The book is so special to me, in fact, that it has a place of…