Dinotopia, by James Gurney and The Last Unicorn (the animated movie).
I was a dinosaur kid. I designed my own imaginary dinosaurs, sniffed haughtily at anatomically inaccurate plastic toy depictions, and re-enacted my favorite scenes from Jurassic Park on the playground (with me as the t-rex or the velociraptor). Dinotopia was a lush, beautifully illustrated adventure that posited the hope that dinosaurs just might yet be within reach, somewhere in the middle of the unexplored ocean. It nurtured my sense of hope, my love for learning new dinosaurs, and encouraged me to draw, too; illustrated stories still had value (as opposed to just being 'picture books'). Nowadays, James Gurney inspires the heck out of me by being one of the finest illustrators in the business (in my opinion), but flipping through the first book in the series just takes me back and lifts my heart.
The Last Unicorn was one of the few animated movies in my grandmother's collection, specifically acquired for us grandkids. We watched that VHS over and over and over... and when I got to see that movie on the big screen during Peter S. Beagle's tour a few years ago, I nearly cried. Yes, I'm grown now, and yes, I understand Molly Grue's how dare you more than ever, and yes, I now own multiple copies of the book, but it was the animated movie I first experienced, and I can almost smell my grandmother's tv-room and feel the scratchy fur of her stuffed animal toys when I hear that opening credits song.
I rewatch and I reread many, many things from when I was yet a kid, and I enjoy them with eyes both young and old... but those two are the powerhouses.
