I always give books as gifts at Christmas. Yeah, mine is not the present that my loved ones are most anxious to open. But I look at my book gifts kind of like bait on a hook. You never know when the fish is going to strike, and there’s always a chance it could be a big one. (Okay, the simile is starting to crumble.)
So this post is meant to be a public service. Whether as a supplemental gift or just a stocking stuffer, you cannot go wrong giving anyone any of these books. In fact, you can’t go wrong giving yourself one. I’m going to forego reviews or summaries and just say how the book affected me.
In no particular order:
--The Temple of Gold by William Goldman – made me realize that there were novels about real life—a young man’s life. I felt like I knew Ray Trevitt—hell, I could have been him.
--The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas – I learned (to my dismay) that just because two people are meant to be does not mean that they will be. I learned bad things happen to good people. And I learned those two magic words: “wait and hope.”
–To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee — I’ve read this over and over. I wanted to be as innocent as Scout, as daring as Jem, and as wise as Atticus.
–East of Eden by John Steinbeck – the greatest brother novel ever. Not sure if I already knew it, but it affirmed that women can definitely be as evil as men. The end of my pedestal. And don’t forget the glorious message about God’s will.
Peace like a River by Leif Enger – This book made man’s relationship to God so real to me that I cried at the end—and the positive family message is just as strong.
The Catcher in the Rye – Holden Caulfield showed me it was okay if I chose not to fit into this world as I perceived it. No, it was better than okay—it was smart.
The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien – revealed to me the transportative power of fiction. I read it the first time in under a week (three volumes, and I am a slow reader). The world that Tolkien created became far more important to me than my own. By the way, it holds up.
Mink River by Brian Doyle – Can you name a book with 15 characters that you absolutely love? And you’re not even counting the crow that talks? How can “magical realism” come off so utterly real?
The Whole Nine Yards by Dallin Malmgren – Yes, the height of self-aggrandizement, since it really was the fictionalization of my own youth. But writing it was such fun, and it filled me with joy and hope and peace.
The Book of Uncommon Prayer by Brian Doyle (yes, my second by him) – I tend to verticalize my relationship with God—me looking up at Him. Doyle horizontalizes it—he sees God in the various people he meets and stories they tell…and he shows God to me.
I look up (at my list) and realize that, except for Harper Lee, all my writers are male. I won’t apologize, but I’m going to include five honorable mentions, all by women, that you could not go wrong buying for someone you love.
* You might notice the omission of the Bible. The Bible is more than a book.
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