The books that made me (so far)
Reviewing the 36 books that helped make me, me 📚
Confession time: I wasn’t always a reader.
As a kid, I loved writing, storytelling, making up characters, improv and dramaaaaaaaa. Those were my jam. But I thought books in and of themselves were kind of meh. I preferred acting out my own stories with paper dolls, drawing illustrations, or directing my more passive friends during playtime rather than sitting still and reading some Madeleine L’Engle.
Then I started IB English in 11th grade and read Isabel Allende’s The House of the Spirits. That’s the precise moment when my love of reading began.
Last month, I saw a post on #bookstagram that stuck in my head called “Books That Made Me.” I started wondering which specific books helped make *me* - which pages and authors built the infrastructure around my sense of self and my life philosophies that would shape how I see the world and how I want to show up in it.
At first I felt overwhelmed by this self-assigned task (most typical Elyse Shit ever…let me give myself an extra-credit assignment that’s supposed to be fun but then apply lots of unnecessary pressure to it for absolutely no reason). But when I broke it down by age brackets, I got excited. This felt like compiling a literary soundtrack of sorts - a Greatest Hits of the books I love and that had the most impact on my life. These aren’t necessarily my *favorite* books or the best books ever written, but they are an assortment of the stories that I think most helped make me who I am today.
Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day: This book made me feel SEEN. Being a kid is hard; all day long you’re dismissed by clueless adults telling you that your problems are small and stupid. Alexander made me feel validated. Sitting in the middle seat sucks. The store not having the shoes you want in your size is tragic. And if your day is awful, you can always try again tomorrow.
Where the Wild Things Are: Yeah, I’m basic. Sue me. Are there any kids who don’t like this book (despite the terrifying illustrations)?
A Chair for My Mother: This book about a young girl who saves literal pennies with her mom and grandma to buy a cozy chair after a fire destroys everything they own is sad and inspirational. The illustrations are printed on the wallpaper of my brain forever.
The Gunniwolf: This random folktale was a favorite in our household, and even inspired us to create some home movies in which I starred as “The Little Girl” and a 3-year-old Becca starred as the Gunniwolf (complete with a black bucket hat with triangle paper ears taped to them). It’s a cautionary tale that warns little girls to never stray from the path and always listen to their mothers (very Tangled coded).
Madeline: This is where my love of all things Paris began.
Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs: What a cool idea for a book. I remember being riveted as a kid and just thinking, “WOW. What if that were true!?” Which is kind of one of my primary joys of reading fiction. Just wow.
The House at Pooh Corner: In the second grade, I starred as “Roo” in a high school production of Winnie the Pooh and it was such a rush. It made me fall in love with all things “House at Pooh Corner,” (despite my early childhood trauma from watching Too Smart for Strangers on repeat).
Matilda: Show me a Millennial girl who didn’t base her whole-ass personality on Matilda and I’ll show you a goddamn liar. I know I’m not alone in my cultish, broody obsession with Matilda…a misunderstood, underestimated girl (do we see a theme here?) who uses her brains and powers of telekinesis to punish the people in her life who abuse her and her classmates at school. Iconic.
The Twelve Dancing Princesses: This beautifully illustrated book features Princess Elyse, so of course this was going to be a banger. The gorgeous illustrations are paired with lengthy prose about 12 royal sisters who sneak off every evening and dance through their slippers at an enchanted ball. It’s basically magic club hopping.
The Babysitter’s Club Series: The Babysitter’s Club was the Full House of children’s literature in the 90s. The series explored a dynamic (albeit nerdy) friend group who take turns babysitting a variety of kids. The best part was that you could immediately identify which babysitter you were most like. I genuinely thought I was Stacy. STACY! The fashionable, cool New Yorker. Lol forever. I was definitely Kristy.
Beezus and Ramona: Beverly Cleary wrote about sister dynamics like no one else. I could relate to Big Sister, Beezus, and her frustration with an annoying little sister (sorry, Becca). And I could also relate to Ramona and how hard it was for her to stay focused and out of trouble. (Related / unrelated: Did anyone else grow up watching the Ramona television series on PBS?)
The Witches: I know, I know. We cancelled Roald Dahl and his very blatant antisemitic ass, but I can’t help it if so many of his books also fundamentally changed my brain. Witches was unnerving and enchanting. I mean, come on, witches with square feet where the toes oughta be? HAUNTING.
The Books that Made Me: Ages 13-18 - An IB English Wannabe Deep Teen The Odyssey: My obsession with all things Greek Mythology began when we were assigned to read Homer’s The Odyssey in school. TALK ABOUT DRAMA. This book has it all: monsters, shirtless dudes, longing, sexy affairs with goddesses and witches, storms at sea. Say less. And when NBC released their mini-series in 1997, I taped it on the VCR and wore out the damn tape. It’s perfection (BERNADETTE PETERS AND VANESSA WILLIAMS) and Brad’s lucky we didn’t have a son because I would have died on the hill to name him Odysseus.
The House of the Spirits: Who doesn’t love a dramatic, generations-long epic tale of grief and spirituality and trauma and romance?
Spilling Open: My Mom bought me Sabrina Ward Harrison’s book, Spilling Open, when I was a junior in high school. She had it waiting for me at home and said that she’d been turning through the pages at Barnes & Noble and thought I’d connect with the art and words. Little did she know how big of an impact SWH would have on my life, both creatively and personally. That’s a whole other essay, but I have such beautiful memories of cuddling up with this book in suburban Virginia and feeling simultaneously so seen and so unique. This is required reading for all Enneagram Type 4s.
The Great Gatsby: Like every other high school IB English student, I fell in love with Jay Gatsby and Daisy’s love story. **Swoon**
Romeo & Juliet: And speaking of awkward high school romance inspo, let’s not forget the feeling of reading Shakespeare’s play aloud in my 9th grade classroom as I tried to sneak glances at my crush. So awkward. So awesome.
Ethan Frome: I don’t know whose idea it was to assign Edith Wharton’s DEPRESSING AS FUCK novel to high school kids but wow this book is dark. But also, I love dark. And I love unrequited love stories and the drama that ensues. This book was quieter than The Odyssey or Romeo and Juliet, but it hit me just as hard. It showed me that pain need not be flashy to be felt.
The Books that Made Me: Ages 19-25 - An Insufferable College Kid The Bell Jar: Nothing to see here. Just another #basicbitch college girl discovering Sylvia Plath…specifically the quote about the fig tree.
The Road: My introduction to both Cormac McCarthy and the genre of post-apocolyptic-worst-case-scenario-porn-that-weirdly-eases-my-anxiety-because-no-matter-what-happens-to-me-at-least-there-aren’t-cannibals-trying-to-trap-me-in-a-basement-and-eat-me. This book traumatized me in the best possible way.
Lolita: Who knew Russians could write? Also, yikes. Also, I’m riveted.
Journal of a Solitude: Sabrina Ward Harrison mentioned May Sarton’s journal entries multiple times in Spilling Open, so of course I had to see what my favorite artist’s artist was all about. Of course May Sarton is a queen and there is so much to learn in these pages for emo, poetry-loving introverts.
Eat Pray Love: I’ll never forget Miss Melanie Klesse handing me her copy of this book, complete with her cursive notes written inside the margins, asking the hard-hitting questions and calling bullshit when necessary. I’m so grateful for Elizabeth Gilbert and Melanie and our bond over books.
Writing Down the Bones: Natalie Goldberg’s little prayer book about writing is canon.
The Books that Made Me: Ages 26-34 - A Young Professional with a Penchant for Strong Female Protagonists and YA The Goldfinch: Sure, fine, Donna Tartt is pretentious but that’s because homegirl can WRITE. Like how are her and Colleen Hoover both called writers?
Never Let Me Go: Kazuo Ishiguro taught me that sometimes I like a splash of sci-fi in my novels. Never Let Me Go is one of my favorite books of all-time.
Sharp Objects: Gillian Flynn and her trio of thrillers in the mid-00s had quite the chokehold on me. While all the other girlies lost their minds for Gone Girl, Sharp Objects was my jam which I found unnerving in the most unexpected, twisted ways.
Room: The only book maybe more depressing than The Road.
Euphoria: I distinctly remember selecting this book for Book Club and relishing in the joy of making all my friends read one of my favorite books. The power. The joy. Utterly addictive.
The Hunger Games: YA for life.
The Books that Made Me: Ages 35-41 - An Aging Millennial Learning About Grief, Intergenerational Trauma, Parenthood and Legacy In the Dream House: Carmen Maria Machado is a gift and this book about abuse in a same-sex relationship is upsetting and beautiful. Creative and unforgettable.
Sing, Unburied, Sing: Jesmyn Ward should go in the writing hall of fame. This book about grief and loss hit me especially hard when I read it after my mom died. I think about this quote from the book at least once a day, “There's too much blank sky where a tree once stood.” <Faints>
Misery: Call it recency bias…but this book rocked my world and changed every single qualifier that I thought made something a “good” book.
The Guest: Emma Cline is a wizard and I love her and am jealous of her.
Nobody Will Tell You This But Me: This deeply Jewish-coded book about family, love and tradition is just too much for my heart to bear. After I read it, I bought copies for my favorite aunts.
Educated: A Memoir: I’ll never forget the days right after Abigail was born and how I read this book as I learned to breastfeed. It’s such a deep association (and is such a beautiful, tragic book as well).
This ended up being a super fun and reflective exercise. If you’re a literary lover too, I highly recommend cracking open a notebook and trying to think up the books that left the largest imprints on your personality. It was an enjoyable jaunt down memory lane.
If you want to check out my favorite books from 2023, I posted them all here.
re: the squares where the toes should go — wasn't the scary passage you showed me in "misery" about a finger? do you have unexplored digit issues?? (i loved reading your list!)