Neil Gaiman is a writer of fantasy fiction, and has written something like twenty books, and the line between whether they are for children, young adults, or adults is really really blurry.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is the memories of a grown man of when he was seven years old, and the strange things that happened. When you are seven, some magical things seem quite like reality, while ‘real’ things have a definite magical quality to them. (Electricity, television and the telephone leap immediately to mind.)
The remembrances are told in a lyrical way that make them so real that you begin to lose your own sense of the boundary between what passes for reality today, and what is sliding off the edge into a magical realm.
What a wonderful, beautiful book. A must read even if you are not usually a reader of fantasy, because all of this just might be ….. real.