As a writer, I often have people asking me what my favorite books are or what got me interested in reading.

I’ve loved books from a very young age. My first relationship with a story that resonated deeply was hearing Stuart Little by E.B. White read aloud to us in the second grade. (Fun fact: I have a copy of Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style signed by E.B. White himself, as my mother worked with Mr. White’s niece many years ago.)

There was a road that was visible from the window of my second-grade classroom. It began across the street from the school and disappeared around a bend. As a child, I had never been on this road before. But when Stuart headed north in search of his friend Margalo at the end of the book, I felt a rush of adventure. I dreamed of setting off myself down that mysterious road to see where it would lead—and in that moment, I realized the power of stories to transport and inspire us:

“As [Stewart] peered ahead into the great land that stretched before him, the way seemed long. But the sky was bright, and he somehow felt he was headed in the right direction.”

By the third grade, I was reading the Hardy Boys adventures—and I was enthralled. Thus began my lifelong love of mysteries.

In the fourth grade, I read the Encyclopedia Brown books. In the fifth grade, I read all the Sherlock Holmes short stories.

As I grew older, my interests expanded to include science fiction (the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series, the short stories of Isaac Asimov) and thrillers (the works of Stephen King). I also devoured the works of writers like Hemingway and Poe.

But mysteries continued to seduce me.

The books I most enjoy today include Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch crime thrillers, Walter Mosley’s Easy Rollins mysteries, and Lee Child’s Jack Reacher series. I’ve also read every one of Robert B. Parker’s Spenser novels. 

I’m a big fan of The Best Mystery Stories of the Year series edited by Otto Penzler and The Best American Mystery and Suspense series edited by Steph Cha, which are both annual collections of the year’s best crime-related short stories. I’m pretty easy to shop for at Christmas, as I welcome getting both of these anthologies in my stocking every year.

I like heroes who stand up for others, especially the downtrodden. Heroes who aren’t morally ambiguous. They might find themselves in morally ambiguous situations, where it’s not clear what the right thing is to do—but they should always strive to do the right thing.

My favorite heroes are average people who act nobly under trying circumstances. Little people who perform big acts of courage. 

That’s what Parker Hanson starts out as in my book Swinging for Power. In fact, I conceived of Parker as an “everyman” version of Robert B. Parker’s detective, Spenser: Instead of a tough guy ex-cop, he’s a former newspaper reporter who doesn’t own a gun and just had major heart surgery—and he quickly finds himself in over his head as he suspects the governor is mixed up in a double murder.

We see everyday heroes performing courageous acts in Minneapolis and elsewhere today as they stand up to fascism. 

Besides mysteries and thrillers, I love books that are surprising, or moving—especially when the writing is clever. I have a soft spot for clever opening lines in particular; if a book doesn’t grab me within the first page, I’m likely to move on. I try to bring that sensibility to my own writing as well.

I have two favorite opening lines, and they come from two of my favorite books in general.

One is from Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises:

Robert Cohn was once middleweight boxing champion of Princeton. Do not think that I am very much impressed by that as a boxing title, but it meant a lot to Cohn.

Think about the construction of that second sentence. He could have simply written, “That accomplishment doesn’t impress me much,” but then we’d miss the narrator’s sardonic wit, which is so important to his character. It’s such a deliciously wicked line that tells us as much about the narrator as it does about Cohn.

The other is from John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany:

I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice—not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother’s death, but because he is the reason I believe in God; I am a Christian because of Owen Meany.

There’s so much to unpack there! As you’re reading, you’re thinking: Oh, wow, it sounds like the narrator’s friend was pretty small. Wait, he did WHAT? Your mother is dead because of THIS GUY? And now you’re telling me he’s the REASON YOU BELIEVE IN GOD AS WELL??? As a reader, how could you not get hooked by that sentence? How would you not want to continue on?

I know these words by heart. I savor them, as I do with any inspired writing I come across.

I have a bookshelf containing just the books I want to read. This shelf fills up faster than I can read them. 

This year, I’m determined to revisit some of my favorite books that I haven’t read in decades—like The Alienist by Caleb Carr and 11/22/63 by Stephen King. I’m curious to see how they hold up—and whether they still captivate me as much as they did originally.

What do you like to read? What are your favorite books of all time—and does this list change as you get older? Drop me an email, as I’d love to hear about your own relationship with stories.

Happing reading!