formative books post
Nov. 9th, 2012 05:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kasihyaStories that I can never not love, because they have had such an influence on the way I write and the way I see the world.
Wizards At War by Diane Duane — this whole series, really, but this was the book that made me think, “Wow, I want to write books like that.” Not exactly like that, obviously, but the complicated relationships that the characters have with each other, and the balance between character and plot, is fantastic. There is something very satisfying and substantial about the Young Wizards books, and they always had a shade of immediacy to them that I try to emulate.
Ironside by Holly Black — formative because it is, to date, the only book I have ever read with a gay main character whose sexuality is (a) secondary to his importance to the story (b) treated exactly the same as the straight main characters. The storyline with Corny and Luis is my favorite thing about the book. I hate reading books about relationships and the acquiring thereof, but until Ironside those were the only types of books where I could find characters like me.
Gifts by Ursula K LeGuin — I haven’t read this book in years and years and years, and I barely remember anything from it. There are two stories that I remember very clearly: one about a wereman, and one about a girl who lived in a village where the people were also animals. They taught me how utterly delightful it is to take the reader’s expectations of status quo and not so much subvert them as sidestep them entirely, which is something I still enjoy today. I suspect that the village story is at least partially responsible for so many of my dreams being populated by humans who are also simultaneously animals.
Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett — this is the story that taught me about humor in fiction, what I find funny, and how to poke fun at characters’ pathetic attributes. Aziraphale, Crowley, Adam, and Pepper are still some of my favorite characters.
Abarat by Clive Barker — the book that showed me how to make stories bright, colorful, nonsensical and glorious in their sheer randomness. I’m not quite as fond of the second and third books, partially because the writing quality declines drastically, but also because they actually had a plot. They weren’t as truly bizarre.
These are in no particular order, and there is at least one of them that I am missing. I'll come back later if I remember it.
Wizards At War by Diane Duane — this whole series, really, but this was the book that made me think, “Wow, I want to write books like that.” Not exactly like that, obviously, but the complicated relationships that the characters have with each other, and the balance between character and plot, is fantastic. There is something very satisfying and substantial about the Young Wizards books, and they always had a shade of immediacy to them that I try to emulate.
Ironside by Holly Black — formative because it is, to date, the only book I have ever read with a gay main character whose sexuality is (a) secondary to his importance to the story (b) treated exactly the same as the straight main characters. The storyline with Corny and Luis is my favorite thing about the book. I hate reading books about relationships and the acquiring thereof, but until Ironside those were the only types of books where I could find characters like me.
Gifts by Ursula K LeGuin — I haven’t read this book in years and years and years, and I barely remember anything from it. There are two stories that I remember very clearly: one about a wereman, and one about a girl who lived in a village where the people were also animals. They taught me how utterly delightful it is to take the reader’s expectations of status quo and not so much subvert them as sidestep them entirely, which is something I still enjoy today. I suspect that the village story is at least partially responsible for so many of my dreams being populated by humans who are also simultaneously animals.
Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett — this is the story that taught me about humor in fiction, what I find funny, and how to poke fun at characters’ pathetic attributes. Aziraphale, Crowley, Adam, and Pepper are still some of my favorite characters.
Abarat by Clive Barker — the book that showed me how to make stories bright, colorful, nonsensical and glorious in their sheer randomness. I’m not quite as fond of the second and third books, partially because the writing quality declines drastically, but also because they actually had a plot. They weren’t as truly bizarre.
These are in no particular order, and there is at least one of them that I am missing. I'll come back later if I remember it.
