Ann Beattie, author of one of my favorite books ever, is 61 today. (Thanks, Garrison Keillor, for always letting me know things like this.) My husband and I were college students when her “Chilly Scenes of Winter” was published in 1976, and this novel captures that time and our then-20-something-year-old angst (although I don’t think anybody in the ’70s would have used the word “angst”) perfectly. In fact, it was my husband who, many years after college, introduced me to Beattie and this book. I’ve been a fan ever since. You will be, too, if you haven’t read her yet. And what better day to start than her birthday?