I've read a lot of books. Most of you are probably un-surprised to hear this, but there it is. I've read so many books that I don't remember most of them. There are some, however, that stick out in my mind. Either they had a profound impact on the way I thought at the time or there was an element within them with which I strongly identified. Here's my list of life-changing reads. What are some of yours?
1. War for the Oaks by Emma Bull
While it was
Tithe by Holly Black that first introduced me to the world of faerie and urban fantasy, it was
War for the Oaks that got me hooked. There was something about the sophisticated, yet playful prose that struck me while I read. Admittedly, this is my favorite novel. I loved the lyrics woven into each chapter and the kick-ass heroine, Eddi. Bull took on the huge task of incorporating faerie into 1980s Minneapolis. And she did so seamlessly. This book opened a whole genre for me and totally changed my perspective on what "fantasy" meant.
2. Simon Says by Elaine Marie Alphin
Simon Says gave me my first dose of major character death. For days after reading this YA novel about mental illness, I was devastated. I had gotten caught up in the subtleties of Alphin's storytelling and Charles' struggles as an artistic prodigy. Being an angsty teenager with what I felt was a creative streak myself, I connected with Charles. Alphin amazed me. The first time I read it, I was impressed by how adult and non-trivial everything seemed in the book. It felt so unusual to have an adult writer write teenagers as teenagers really are, rather than dumbed-down and caricatured versions of young adults. The book made me feel validated, in many ways, and continues to push at me years after reading it.
3. The Dust of 100 Dogs by A.S. King
A.S. King took me into a genre of fantasy into which I had not previously ventured. Featuring Emer, the novel details the existence of a girl cursed to live one hundred lives as a dog before returning to her human form. Like the
Simon Says,
The Dust of 100 Dogs made me feel as if King was telling me a story, rather than trying to talk down to me, as many YA novels do. The genre has been shifting lately, but in the past, respect for YA readers has been difficult to find. I loved the mature style of the book and King showed me it was okay to read YA (and even fantasy YA) without the fear of being somehow mocked.
4. The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
While we're on the topics of initialed-authors, I can't very well make a list like this without mentioning Salinger. I read
The Catcher in the Rye in middle school and again in high school, both times for my own enjoyment. It may be an obvious choice, but Salinger captured the bitterness of Holden Caulfield in a way that makes the character easy for both teens and adults to latch on to while still maintaining the qualities of "important literature." The symbolism in the novel can be explored over and over again and, while Salinger wrote little more ("A Perfect Day for Bananafish" being his other big hit, among less-popular works focusing on the fictional Glass family),
Catcher is a work which is frequently listed as an inspiration and a classic. It certainly holds a place in both of these categories for me.
5. Boy Proof by Cecil Castellucci
When I first started
Boy Proof, I anticipated a brain-candy read: nothing too philosophical, or even well-written. Just some trash to keep my eyes and my mind occupied. I ended up being totally wrong. Although brief,
Boy Proof made me ask myself some really important questions about identity and popularity. Like Egg, Castellucci's main character, I felt relatively isolated compared to my peers in high school. I was a "nerd" and a "geek" who actually enjoyed homework, enjoyed fangirling over various books, television shows, and movies, and didn't have a whole lot of opposite-sex interaction (and that which I did was strictly platonic). I felt pathetic. But Castellucci's novel made me feel differently. I became proud of my passions and interests, even if the people around me were repulsed by them. Of course, it takes more than one book to change something so drastically, but this was the beginning for me.
6. Falling Up by Shel Silverstein
Like many others, I grew up with the poetry of Shel Silverstein. I read and reread his poems, even taking on the responsibility of memorizing "Snowball," a personal favorite. It was
Falling Up (and his other collections) that made me realize poetry didn't have to be sterile and distant and, well, difficult. Poetry could be fun. You could use wordplay and jokes. And that's what Silverstein did. He totally changed my perspective on lines and verse, leading me to later appreciate more challenging works such as my next choice.
7. Macbeth by William Shakespeare
I admit,
Macbeth is not my favorite Shakespeare play. (That title goes to
Hamlet.) However, it was in a senior English class in which I read
Macbeth (and later
Hamlet) that I learned how absolutely ridiculous Shakespeare was. If you don't already know this, let me be the first to tell you: Shakespeare was pretty crude and hilariously so. Just scroll through the
Shakespeare tag on Tumblr, and you'll get a good idea how so. If you open to a random page of a complete works of Shakespeare, chances are you'll be able to locate a penis joke. Of course, there are many more wonders to Shakespeare than just phallic humor. But when my teacher introduced the class to the hilarity of Shakespeare through some passages in
Macbeth, Shakespeare suddenly became infinitely more accessible. (Also, while I haven't had a chance to read this one, it looks like a good way to spend some time:
Filthy Shakespeare.)
8. Every Time a Rainbow Dies by Rita Williams-Garcia
To be honest, I'm not sure what it is that has made this novel stick with me. I read it once years ago, and haven't even perused it since. Perhaps it's the harsh reality of the world projected into the book that caught me. The novel deals with rape and death but is hopeful. I think of it often, especially as case after case of rape (or murder in the face of refusal as in the recent stabbings and shootings by rejected boys) pops up in the news. Its relevance is, unfortunately, real. Still, the strength it offers remains with me even years later.
9. Eight Seconds by Jean Ferris
Eight Seconds is the first novel I remember reading featuring gay characters. I read it at a relatively young age, at which point I don't recall discussing sexuality or sexual orientation with anyone to any great degree. It intrigued me, as a young, straight, girl. While it may not have been representative, it was an introduction to a community with which I was unfamiliar (at least, in a conscious sense).
10. Fat Kid Rules the World by K.L. Going
Around the time I was really into music, I stumbled upon
Fat Kid Rules the World, a novel about a depressed, overweight kid who falls in with a scrawny, troubled kid and finds his passion in drumming. Like almost all the other books on this list, I fell into seeing myself in Troy. I, too, was depressed. I, too, felt music rescued a little piece of me when I felt there was nothing left to rescue. Apparently, the novel was made into a
movie in 2012. The book dealt with some heavy things, but that's what good YA novels do -- they attack the tough stuff that adults seem to think teens can't handle. Often, it's these very things teens are going through on a regular basis.
11. It's Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini
Like
Fat Kid Rules the World,
It's Kind of a Funny Story took on suicide and mental illness. Drawing from personal experience, Ned Vizzini details life in a mental hospital. This book helped me through one of the most difficult times in my life, shortly after I was diagnosed with depression and a general anxiety disorder. The novel helped me be okay with taking prescriptions and generally accepting help to deal with my issues. Vizzini, unfortunately, took his own life in December 2013 at age thirty-two. A
film version of
It's Kind of a Funny Story debuted in 2010.
12. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
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From Flavorwire, Jeremy Irons as Humbert Humbert and Dominique Swain
as Lolita in Lolita (1997). |
I read
Lolita in May 2012 while I waited to close the dorm rooms as a resident assistant. The prose was rich and took some getting used to. But page by page, I found myself sympathizing with Humbert Humbert. I was disgusted with myself. When I looked into it, I found others had a similar experience. Nabokov's masterful prose didn't encourage sympathy for the titular character, but for the pedophilic narrator. I was amazed at how Nabokov had manipulated me, even with my guard up. Even as an English major, already disillusioned by literature and believing there was nothing left to surprise me, I was astounded by the power of literature with
Lolita as the example.
13. Thieves Like Us by Stephen Cole
It never occurred to me that books could be action/adventure, but
Thieves Like Us adamantly corrected that notion. Whenever I hear of a kid who "doesn't like to read," I insist he or she just hasn't found the right book. More often than not, I hear this about boys who are active and like exciting action films. When this is the case, I think of
Thieves Like Us. Most of the time, this suggestion goes ignored because the kid is so convinced he dislikes reading that he won't give it a chance. But I'm even more convinced that this book will change their mind because it is
that cool.
