Anne Fortier follows up her New York Times best-selling debut, Juliet, with another novel rooted in one of history's most notorious tales. Our reviewer describes The Lost Sisterhood as "a gorgeous journey from England to North Africa to Greece, thrilling readers with beautiful settings, courageous women and breathtaking adventure." (Read our full review here.)
We were curious about the books Fortier has enjoyed reading lately, so we asked her to recommend three recent favorites, which she graciously agreed to share.
By Sally O'Reilly
I just finished this, and I’m jumping at this opportunity to recommend it to book lovers far and wide. It tells the story of Aemilia, a young lady at the court of Elizabeth I, who becomes the obsession of an up-and-coming playwright . . . yes, you’ve guessed it! Was Aemilia really Shakespeare’s famous “dark lady”? O’Reilly’s fabulous novel makes a very compelling case.
The book won’t be on the shelves until June, but then now you know there is something to look forward to this summer. Dark Aemilia is a must-read for all lovers of Shakespeare and old England, and while it is written from the perspective of a woman, I am confident men will enjoy it, too. I am usually careful with my books, but this one quickly became a victim of dog ears and pencil-marks, because O’Reilly touches on so many crucial historical moments and writes with such intelligent elegance.
The Greek Myths
By Robert Graves
Hardly a month goes by where I don’t reread a chapter or two in Robert Graves’ classic, The Greek Myths. It is one of those masterpieces that have long since won a permanent place on my what-to-bring-to-a-desert-island list. There are many renditions of the ancient myths out there, but to me, Graves' still rules supreme. Not only does he have an encyclopedic knowledge of the ancient world and its legends, but he is also able to re-tell the myths as if he were an ancient storyteller, and we the gaping audience sitting around his campfire. “Some say—” is his favorite opening, and indeed, he makes us believe the mythological heroes and heroines are still at large around us in the darkness . . .
In addition to the collected works of Shakespeare, I find the Greek myths make a fantastic graduation present, or simply a birthday gift for ambitious young readers.
Ronia, the Robber's Daughter
By Astrid Lindgren
I am just about to begin reading Astrid Lindgren’s wonderful Ronia, the Robber’s Daughter to my little girl. I can’t wait! This was one of my favorite books growing up, and now, decades later, I feel as if Ronia’s magical forest was as real as my own childhood memories. It is one of those rare books that make you eager to go out and find adventure in nature—a much-needed quality in today’s world, I think.
Born in 1907, Sweden’s Astrid Lindgren was such an inspired, paradigm-shifting author, and a real pioneer when it came to creating strong, adventurous female characters. My mother used to read The Children of Noisy Village to me, over and over; each individual chapter has its own plot and makes for a perfectly happy and wholesome goodnight story for boys and girls alike. Illustrations are sparse, but since the writing is so engaging and straight-forward, these are fantastic starter-books for transitioning away from picture books.
What do you think, readers? Will you be adding The Lost Sisterhood—or any of Fortier's recommended books—to your TBR list? By the way, The Lost Sisterhood is one of four books we're giving away in this week's Women's History Month contest.
(Author photo by Grant Simeon)
In The Story of Charlotte's Web, it was E.B. White. In his new book, The Adventures of Henry Thoreau, accomplished nature writer Michael Sims turns his eye to one of 19th-century America's most iconic figures. Our reviewer deems the book—which focuses on Thoreau's youth—"an amiable and fresh take on the legendary sage of Walden Pond." (Read the full review right here.)
We were curious about the books Sims has enjoyed reading lately, so we asked him to recommend three recent favorites, which he graciously agreed to share.
The Ghost in the Glass House
By Carey Wallace
I read a lot of children's and YA books, and lately my trend has been ghost stories. Most have been picked up randomly at library book sales—excellent older stories such as Betty Ren Wright’s The Dollhouse Murders and Colby F. Rodowsky’s The Gathering Room. But I've just read a fine new one by Carey Wallace, the author of the gorgeous 2010 novel The Blind Contessa's New Machine. Her first YA novel is elegant, witty, poignant and just as rich for adults. During the Jazz Age, 12-year-old Clare Fitzgerald travels with her wealthy, restless mother from hotel to rented house, from Europe to the United States. The mother is on the edge of having to address her demons, the daughter on the edge of adolescence. Then Clare meets Jack—or rather his ghost.
Wallace writes beautifully: “The unfinished walls were hung with a whole museum of curiosities: garden tools with handles rubbed smooth as driftwood, a pail full of the stubs of beeswax tapers, a few of Mack’s work shirts, soft with age, and a neat collection of herbs tied with scraps of ribbon and labeled. . . . As Clare’s eyes adjusted, she realized the shadows beyond the jars were full of roses, dozens of them, dried and stacked bloom to bloom like the skulls Clare’s mother had taken her to see, packed cheek to cheek in the Paris catacombs.”
By Marcel Proust, translated by C. K. Scott Moncrieff, revised and annotated by William C. Carter
I’m always rereading. I reread my favorite writers from childhood and everything else that I love: Kenneth Grahame, Jim Kjelgaard, Ruth Rendell, Dickens, Rilke, Hazlitt, Kevin Henkes, Philip Pullman, Annie Dillard, Thoreau, E. B. White, Beverly Cleary, Ovid, Raymond Chandler, Homer. Currently I’m re-reading Swann’s Way, which I’ve read twice before in its entirety and dozens of times in pieces. I’ve read the whole vast In Search of Lost Time, originally in the Moncrieff (and Kilmartin & Co.) translation, and I’m working my way through it a second time now in the multi-translator Penguin edition from several years ago. Now, thanks to this annotated revision of Moncrieff, I find myself returning again to the first volume. It’s a handsome deckle-edged trade paperback with crisp type, broad margins, and helpful annotations by the foremost biographer of Proust in English, William C. Carter (who is rivaled only by Jean-Yves Tadie, whose French masterwork was translated by Euon Cameron). Most importantly, it’s a full revision of Moncrieff, with endless corrections and thus a spectrum of restored nuances. Also it’s easy to hold in bed. And it smells great, which is only appropriate.
I read Proust for his psychological insight and his breadth of vision, but mostly for the cinematography. Has any other writer so beautifully captured the fleeting experience of everyday life? “For many years have now elapsed since the Combray days, when, coming in from the longest and latest of walks, I would still be in time to see the red reflections of the sunset in the panes of my bedroom window.”
The Letters of Pliny the Younger
I’m reading these vivid, lively, elegant letters in a sturdy red cloth edition from the original 1909 set of Harvard Classics. I grew up in the country in eastern Tennessee and never made it to college. The seeds of my personal library were the 50-odd volumes of the Harvard Classics, which I bought in a cardboard box at a library book sale for four dollars when I was in my mid-20s. I’m still reading and re-reading them.
They include Pliny’s account of the death of his esteemed uncle, now called Pliny the Elder, and a terrifying eyewitness account of the latter’s death during the eruption of Vesuvius, because he was determined to get closer to the volcano and understand what was happening. The letters provide a time-machine panorama of the intellectual, moral, and social issues dominating Roman life in the first century. They make me want to write about this era. Pliny also brings to life his ordinary days and the surprising comfort of his villa: “Adjoining this angle is a room forming the segment of a circle, the windows of which are so arranged as to get the sun all through the day: in the walls are contrived a sort of cases, containing a collection of authors who can never be read too often. Next to this is a bed-room, connected with it by a raised passage furnished with pipes, which supply, at a wholesome temperature, and distribute to all parts of this room, the heat they receive. . . .”
What do you think, readers? Will you be adding The Adventures of Henry Thoreau—or any of Sims' recommended books—to your TBR list?
(Author photo by Lauren Sloan Patterson)
Bich Minh Nguyen's enthralling second novel, Pioneer Girl, offers a version of the immigrant experience that's different from the one we usually read about: the Middle America Asian-American experience. Our interview with Nguyen about Pioneer Girl highlights the fascinating inspiration behind the book, also offering a peek into her creative process.
We were curious about the books Nguyen has enjoyed reading lately, so we asked her to recommend three recent favorites, which she graciously agreed to share.
Happiness, Like Water
By Chinelo Okparanta
I love the distilled experience of reading short stories, and Okparanta’s debut collection is powerful and heartbreaking in the best way. Set in Nigeria and the United States, the stories follow characters struggling in their relationships, families, and social and political circumstances. The question of identity, especially for women, is always at the forefront, as in two of my favorite stories here, “On Ohaeto Street,” about a couple’s doomed marriage, and “America,” about a woman whose decision to emigrate creates hope but also signals the loss of family heritage.
Son of a Gun
By Justin St. Germain
I recently taught this memoir, which is as clear-eyed, beautiful and intense as one could hope for in a work of nonfiction. While St. Germain focuses the narrative on his search for understanding in the years after his mother’s murder, he also reflects on the landscape of Tombstone, Arizona, and its culture of myth-making and violence. With restraint and care, St. Germain weaves together ideas about past and present, rage and stillness, loss and reinvention.
By Natalie Baszile
I just started this lovely and absorbing novel about a mother and daughter who move from Los Angeles to Louisiana, drawn by an inheritance of 800 acres of sugarcane land. The farming life and the Southern country life are completely unfamiliar to Charley Bordelon and her daughter Micah, and they have to learn quickly. Much is on the line here, as Charley feels like this is her one big chance to start over and make a life for herself and Micah. And there’s a tantalizing mystery, too: Who was Charley’s father? Why did he leave all this land to her? I can’t wait to see how the stories and secrets unfold.
What do you think, readers? Will you be adding Pioneer Girl—or any of Nguyen's recommended books—to your TBR list?
Beloved, best-selling, award-winning, critically acclaimed writer Anna Quindlen is back with a new novel, Still Life with Bread Crumbs. Our reviewer describes the book as "a journey of self-exploration, of getting to know who you are rather than who others expect you to be. It’s a meditation on art, age and commercialism wrapped up in a delightful story—perhaps the best-selling author’s finest novel yet." (Read the full review and our interview with Quindlen about the book.)
We were curious about the books Quindlen has enjoyed reading lately, so we asked her to recommend three recent favorites. She graciously agreed, sharing five recommendations, in fact:
By Alice McDermott
McDermott is a gifted miniaturist whose prose, with its precision and indelible imagery, is almost poetry. This story of the “unremarkable life” of a broken man opens at the bar where mourners gather with his widow after his funeral and then follows the winding path of memory through love, lies and disillusionment. Everything McDermott writes is pitch-perfect and goes straight to my heart, but this may be her best.
The Cazalet Chronicles
By Elizabeth Jane Howard
I’m cheating here: This is really five novels, but I dare any reader to try to read just one of these interlocking books about a large upper-class family. (I just reread the series for the fourth time.) Start with The Light Years, and follow three generations of Cazalets as they try to hold or find their place in the fractured society of an England poised between one world war and another. The family home in Sussex, the London streets savaged by the blitz, the growing pains and love affairs: the characters become more friends than fiction.
The Shortcut Man
By P.G. Sturges
Michael Connelly’s public praise made me pick this up, but the sharp smart prose and the twisted world view kept me reading, through this first novel and the two that follow. Noir cut with wisecracks, thriller leavened with slapstick: these stories of an L.A. guy named Dick whose fist starts to tingle whenever he encounters bad attitude and who gets things done outside the strictures of the law made me laugh out loud. Sturges might turn out to be the heir to the Elmore Leonard fortune.
The House of Mirth
By Edith Wharton
There’s probably no female protagonist in literature as tragic as Lily Bart—and yes, I’m including Anna Karenina. Beautiful, intelligent, “horribly poor—and very expensive,” she knows what society demands of her: an advantageous marriage, a bargain in which she will provide the gilding and her husband the gold. But during the course of this novel Lily makes one misstep after another, sliding down the mahogany banister of position and respectability to certain disaster.
Beautifully written, utterly unforgettable, this is a portrait of a lady as the amoral chatelaine of a logging camp in the American South during the Great Depression, as well as the story of the poor guy who is utterly dazzled by her. As far as I’m concerned, this novel, as powerful and inexorable as a thunderstorm, is as good a piece of fiction as I’ve read in the last decade. It’s a new classic in the category of love gone horribly wrong.
What do you think, readers? Will Still Life with Bread Crumbs—or any of Quindlen's recommended books—be going on your TBR list?
(Author photo © Maria Krovatin)
Maya Banks' blockbuster Breathless Trilogy left countless readers breathless, themselves—and eagerly anticipating more from the veteran romance writer. Luckily, the wait ended with last week's publication of Letting Go, the first in her brand-new Surrender Trilogy. Since Valentine's Day is this week, we thought it was the perfect time to ask Banks about the books she's been reading lately. She responded by sharing that she gravitates toward comfort reading when dealing with the stresses of deadlines. Here are her favorites:
I’m a huge comfort reader, especially when I’m in a rut or when I’ve come off exhausting deadlines and just need to recharge the batteries. Sometimes I just crave a book I already know that I love because there is nothing more satisfying than settling in with an absolutely yummy book that I know will make my heart happy.
Dark Prince by Christine Feehan is a book that, no matter how many times I read it, never fails to satisfy the romance lover in me. Feehan was the first paranormal author I ever read. Until discovering her, I would have said paranormal romance simply wasn’t my “thing.” But those early books in her Dark series still have the power to captivate me and give me that ahhh feeling, no matter how many times I go back and reread them.
Julie Garwood has been a favorite since I was a teenager. I always say that everything I learned about writing fully fleshed-out secondary characters I learned from her. Even if a character in her book has only one page of airtime, Garwood makes him or her interesting and fully fleshed out. I read every single page, because she makes every single page interesting. My two favorite comfort reads by her—and two of my top five favorite books of all time—are Saving Grace and Honor’s Splendour. I could literally read either of those books and then start back over from the beginning and read it all over again. They’re just that good.
Sharon Sala’s older books also hold a space on my shelf of comfort rereads. I adore Out of the Dark, and I cry every single time I read it. It’s emotional and poignant and just hits all my buttons. Another favorite of mine is Remember Me. It has some of my all-time favorite tropes and just does it for me every time.
Many authors will also say that they don’t have a favorite book of their own because they love them all, but I’ve written and published more than 60 books, and I do have favorites, even though my answer may change depending on my mood or if I’ve just reread a certain title. I absolutely love Whispers in the Dark, Book 4 in the KGI series. Very close runners-up are The Darkest Hour and Shades of Gray. The common thread in all three books is that they’re deeply emotional, and I adore emotion in my stories.
What do you think, readers? Will Letting Go—or any of Banks' favorite comfort reads—be going on your TBR list?
(Author photo © Ben Riley Johnson Jr.)
If you loved Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca, you're going to want to check out Rachel Pastan's third novel, Alena, which pays homage to the classic. In it, a young art curator from the Midwest is offered a job by the handsome, wealthy and mysterious owner of a museum on Cape Cod. The former curator, Alena, disappeared, and the museum staff is fiercely loyal to her. Conflict, drama and twists ensue. (Read our review of Alena.)
We were curious about the books Pastan has enjoyed reading lately, so we asked her to recommend three recent favorites, which she graciously agreed to share:
By Andrea Barrett
While writing my new book Alena, which is set in the art world, I read a lot of novels about that world. Lately, as though in response, I have been craving fiction about science. I heard Andrea Barrett on the radio talking about a story in this collection, “The Island,” centered on Louis Agassiz, one of the Victorian era’s great naturalists. I love the clarity and energy of Barrett’s prose, as well as her portrayal of two young 19th-century women who are passionate about science and determined to shape their lives around that passion.
My mother, who gives me many books, gave me this—though I would probably have sought it out anyway because I love Patchett’s work. Many people have praised this novel (also about scientists), which is partly an adventure story set deep in the jungles of Brazil. What I haven’t heard so much talk about is the original way the novel approaches issues around mothers and work. Neither of the two main female characters is a mother, but the price of fertility and the cost of being dedicated to one’s profession are central themes here, as are close bonds between both men and women and their surrogate children.
The Suicide Index
By Joan Wickersham
After hearing the author read from this unconventional memoir about her father’s suicide, I went right out and bought a copy. Organized not chronologically but literally as an index (Suicide: act of, attempt to imagine; factors that may have had direct or indirect bearing on; finding some humor in, etc.), this book is nonetheless (or consequently?) absolutely riveting. Wickersham’s sentences are electric with the energy it takes for them not to fly apart.
What do you think, readers? Will Alena—or any of Pastan's recommended books—be going on your TBR list?
(Author photo © Carina Romano)
Tiffany Baker's delightful debut, The Little Giant of Aberdeen County, was met with critical and audience acclaim when it was published four years ago. Baker's just-published third book, Mercy Snow, tells the stories of two disparate families living in a small New Hampshire town. Our reviewer declares Baker as "an expert in placing the reader into the souls of her characters. Readers will be eager to see what’s next from this talented writer." (Read our full review of the book.)
We were curious about the books Tiffany has enjoyed reading lately, so we asked her to recommend three recent favorites. She graciously agreed, giving us not three recommendations, but four!
I’m one of those people who always has a minimum of two books going at once and stacks of books by my bed. Usually, I’m reading something for fun, something for research and then something because someone has recommended it as useful. Oh, and cookbooks. I like to browse those, too. Here’s what’s in my pile right now:
Delicate Edible Birds
By Lauren Groff
This is a short story collection that came out in 2009 and that I periodically dip in and out of. I am a huge fan of Lauren Groff. Her writing is simultaneously dreamy and precise, spare and lush, and she is very, very smart. I don’t usually love short stories, but the tales in this collection feel so complete and each one is so interesting. She rewrites the story of Abelard and Heloise, imagines the downfall of a dictator’s wife, and the title story, set in World War II, is simply amazing.
I’m late to the party with this one, I realize, but this book is so completely amazing. Kushner absolutely pulls off making you feel immersed in the tropical confusion of Cuba right before the revolution. Also, without spoiling anything, I can’t believe some of the gutsy character moves she pulls off—and gets away with. I’m totally envious of and pleased with this book. It’s one of those novels that gives you ideas in the best possible way.
Quiet: The Power of the Introvert
By Susan Cain
When two of your three children’s teachers tell you to read this book, you do, and I’m so glad that I am. It’s so easy to overlook the more introverted child, or to try to push them to be different, and it’s also so easy to put those pressures on yourself. This book reminds me that it’s easier to paddle with the current than fight against it. You’ll go much farther much faster.
A dear friend gave this to me for Christmas, and it’s everything you’d want in a cookbook. Gorgeous photographs, friendly and engaging writing, and oh my goodness, the food is to die for. I can’t wait to cook everything in it over the course of 2014—the perfect break from writing.
What do you think, readers? Will Mercy Snow—or any of Baker's recommended books—be going on your TBR list?
(Author photo by Lauren Drever)
In her just-released YA novel, The Impossible Knife of Memory, Laurie Halse Anderson presents a powerful story of a young woman coping with her father's PTSD. Our reviewer predicts that "longtime Anderson fans won’t be disappointed, and readers newly discovering her work will understand why she’s earned a reputation as one of the most honest authors writing for teens today." (Read our full review of the book here and a Q&A with Anderson about the book here.)
We were curious about the books Laurie has enjoyed reading lately, so we asked her to recommend three recent favorites, which she graciously agreed to share.
I was lucky enough to receive an advanced reading copy of Longbourn by Jo Baker. As soon as I finished the last page I drove to my local indie bookseller and bought a copy in hardback, because I felt I owed the author a debt for the reading experience I’d just enjoyed. Longbourn is, without a doubt, the best-written, most satisfying historical novel I’ve ever read. This is Pride and Prejudice stood on its head, told from the perspective of the servants of the Bennet household. Dare I say this? Baker is a better writer than Jane Austen, and she tells a more interesting story. I am considering offering my services as cook, housekeeper and scullery maid to her so she’ll write another book as swiftly as possible.
I have to drive all day to get to New York City, but I can make it to the Canadian border in an hour. This proximity is what first brought me to the wonderful Inspector Gamache mysteries by Louise Penny. Her ability to weave a great story and make me stay up much too late at night reading is what sends me back every time she publishes another one. This is the ninth novel in the series, but it can easily be read on its own. The layers of the story; the mystery of the first death, the building tension as the police involvement takes a dark turn, and the pitch-perfect characters work together seamlessly. This well-paced tale of secrets, betrayal and love set in a remote Québec village is the perfect book to curl up with on a dark winter’s eve.
I bought this the day it went on sale, but saved it for weeks to read on my birthday. Best. Decision. Ever. The story transported me to that rare, magical place that only the best books can unlock. Gaiman is a once-in-a-generation storyteller. This could be his once-in-a-lifetime masterpiece.
What do you think, readers? Will The Impossible Knife of Memory—or any of Halse's recommended books—be going on your TBR list?
(Author photo by Joyce Tenneson)
Rachel Joyce's debut, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, was met with wide praise and became an international bestseller when it was published in 2012. Her just-released follow-up, Perfect, alternates between the stories of Byron Hemmings, a school boy in 1972, and Jim, a 55-year-old former psychiatric patient making his way in the present-day real world. Our reviewer calls Perfect a "masterful second novel," predicting that, "thanks to Joyce’s skilled character development and storytelling, readers will find it easy to lose themselves in this emotional tale." (Read our full review here.)
We were curious about the books Joyce has enjoyed reading lately, so we asked her to recommend three recent favorites, which she graciously agreed to share:
I have a pile of books by my side of the bed. It’s not because I am a fast reader but because there are so many stories I want to read that I get greedy in bookshops, rather like a child with sweets. I want to be able to read more than I can. The truth is that if I love a book on first reading, I go back to the beginning and start again. I stay with it. (This is what happened with all my suggestions. And this is why the pile next to my bed doesn’t go down. It only grows.)
By Christopher Reid
A friend sent this for my birthday because she loved it. Those are my favourites presents; you read something new and you also see the people close to you in a new light. I read this slim volume of poetry in one sitting. I couldn’t stop. It is beautiful, sad and—like all good words—it expresses in a line, feelings and thoughts that were just swimming rather grey and shapelessly inside my head. There is nothing elusive about this collection of poetry about loss. Instead it is a very honest and life affirming book about why we love.
I bought this collection of stories before a flight home. By the time I landed, I felt I had travelled with a friend. Like Christopher Reid, Alice Munro makes writing seem deceptively simple. Every detail is brilliantly placed. These short stories read with the intensity of a novel and celebrate small town lives and the things that go unsaid.
UNDER MILK WOOD
By Dylan Thomas (illustrated by Peter Blake)
When I was a child, we had five gramophone records. One was Abbey Road by the Beatles, one was Beethoven’s Fifth, another was Blue by Joni Mitchell, then Miles Davis and lastly the radio play, Under Milk Wood, narrated in the rolling tones of Richard Burton. I still know it word for word. I didn’t even know I knew it word for word and then a bookshop owner showed me this beautiful new version recently, illustrated by Peter Blake, and whole sections came flooding back to me. As a writer of radio plays, I will never get even close to this. It is a piece about a small Welsh village and all its inhabitants, but it exists on another level. It makes me laugh. The language zings. It moves me. And these illustrations by Peter Blake are like a musical accompaniment. Sometimes a book has to be like drinking good wine or eating fine food. This is one of those. (I bought it for myself for Christmas.)
What do you think, readers? Will Perfect—or any of Joyce's recommended books—be going on your bedside table?
(Author photo © Fatimah Namdar)
The Son, Philipp Meyer's epic, time-sprawling Western novel, landed in the #5 spot of our Best Books of 2013. Our reviewer called the family saga "a shining second step in a promising career." (Read the full review here and our interview with Meyer about the book here.)
We were curious about the books Meyer has enjoyed reading lately, so we asked him to recommend three recent favorites, which he graciously agreed to share:
By Karl Ove Knausgaard
This was recommended to me by Cressida Leyshon, the New Yorker editor, at a recent holiday party. By some miracle, despite being drunk on gallons of free champagne, I managed to remember the title. Turns out everyone in New York is reading this book. Often that’s reason enough to avoid something, but this book is actually brilliant. It’s being billed as the new version of Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past, but it’s not. It’s better. It is a goddamn excellent book.
Life After Life
By Kate Atkinson
I have been beating the drum on this one for a while. Before this book, Atkinson was known mostly as a crime novelist, but this is an absolutely brilliant work of literature. This is not the same as saying there are no differences between literature and entertainment, because those differences are real. But Atkinson is one of those rare writers who will be master of whatever she sets her mind to. It made me furious when this book was passed over for the Man Booker prize. But now it’s popping up on every best book of the year list for 2013, for very, very good reason.
Kafka on the Shore
By Haruki Murakami
I went through a huge postmodernist phase in university, but I thought it had been flushed from my system along with all the dope I smoked back then. I grew up into a fairly modernist writer, and the fact that every hipster wanna-be loves Murakami was enough to make me give him a wide berth for years. But Murakami actually belongs in his own category. Unlike a lot of other postmodern writers, his writing has real emotional depth. He doesn’t do anything just to be clever. There is always a point to his twists and turns. And the fact that this guy didn’t even start writing until he was nearly 30 years old . . . you’ve got to love a person like that, who in his late 20s picks up a pen for the first time and by his 40s is one of the modern masters. I think Kafka on the Shore is the one for everyone to start with.
What do you think, readers? Did you enjoy The Son, or do you plan on checking out any of Meyer's recommended books?