The 5 Books That Made Me

I've seen these around the 'net for a while. I never really bothered to think about my five, but I thought 'ah sure, what the hell!'

Ann and Barry

 

Oh, I remember the day. The sun was shining and I was no more than five or six. I noticed my mam standing at the front gate, as she did occasionally, puffing on a smoke, awaiting my return home from school. I picked up speed and raced along, waving frantically my new Ann and Barry book.
‘I read more than anybody else in the class,’ I panted, ‘so teacher put me on a higher book.’

I was thrilled. My mother, proud. My love of reading had already begun.

Moondial

 

I have mentioned on this blog before my love of Moondial. The few occasions when I ambled away from the non-fiction side of the library, I was always drawn to something otherworldly. Having already seen the television show based on the book, I knew what to expect and knew it was exactly what I would love. What I didn’t expect was a book I would expect my future life to mirror. Alas! I found no moondial and never travelled back in time during my tweens.

Fiction lies to us and breaks our hearts.

Rebecca

 

My first introduction to the setting being a character in itself. And boy, what an introduction!
Manderlay was to have a lasting effect on my own writing because I saw what a setting could become; awe-inspiring, sinister, the true heart of a tale. And I’ve more than once created my own Frankenstein’s monster version of Manderlay.

Du Maurier is masterful. I read a least five other novels of hers right after reading Rebecca, trying desperately to recapture the hold Rebecca had over me. And while they were great novels, they did fall short. I expect if I were to re-read them now, without the comparing and the desire to find a carbon-copy of Rebecca I would love them a lot more than I original did.

Hound of the Baskervilles

 

Things I love; a wild natural setting, preferably in the British Isle’s somewhere, mystery, supernatural elements, and characters that stay with you long after the final page is turned.
Now you understand why I love Baskervilles. (bonus points if Wuthering Heights also popped into your head.)

There is nothing like your first time with Sherlock. (easy fangirls!) I was nigh on twelve, and had no concept of Sherlock Holmes aside from the weird idea I had that he caught Jack the Ripper. (Where that came from, I’ve no idea.)

Unfamiliar to Holmes’ deductions and scientific manner, I thought Baskervilles WAS a supernatural tale. Imagine my devastation when little morbid me had things explained away naturally - like an episode of Scooby Doo. Eventually I got over the shock, and rehashed some of the pages.
It was the same sense I got after I had finished my first Agatha Christie novel. A ‘how did he [Doyle] do it???? I didn’t see that coming AT ALL. I need to read more!’ feeling.
That’s the greatest feeling a book can instil in you. I adore when it happens.

And last, but by no means least...

The Harry Potter Series

 

My life wouldn’t be the same if not for Harry. I cannot truly express what this series, particularly the first one I read (Half-Blood Prince) means to me.

Never, ever, EVER, before had I wanted so badly to exist in a fictional place. Never had I cried over fictional characters before, let alone sob uncontrollably as I did at the end of Half-Blood Prince. Never before did I keep a book! (Always passing them along, or more often, returned them to the library.) But I kept Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I wasn’t letting go of the magic. To this day I still refuse to let go of the magic and re-read the entire series religiously.

When a family members see me re-reading they always make a smart reply, something like ‘what's changed since last time you read it?’
But that’s not what I hear. What I hear is:
‘After all this time?’
‘Always.’

That’s when you know a book has touched your soul.