My Ten Favorite Books*

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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