What are some of your favorite books? Do they have any special meaning for you, such as a period of time in your life when it was relatable or perhaps a recommendation by someone dear?

Janet Fitch I like the second part of the question, books that have special meaning for me…(different from the favorite books question, which is too hard.) Special meaning--Crime and Punishment, the book that really shook my world in Jr. High, that my father gave me, to rescue me from the insipid girls' books of the period, and planted the seed of my Russia obsession.

The Diaries of Anais Nin, which made me want to be a writer. A substitute teacher when I was a sophomore in high school said there were no women writers, and a girl in my class asked, "What about Anais Nin?" Her face with its heavy eyelashes on the cover of each volume. Begins lifelong Nin obsession.

The Collected Poems of Carl Sandberg, the first book I ever bought with my own money. 'The people they move in a fine thin smoke, the people, yes….' I love his humor, his attention to the details, his love of the ordinary person. No American should be without Sandberg. This is who we are.

Hiroshige's Tokaido, A little book that combined postage-stamp sized Hiroshige woodcuts of the stops on the Tokaido, the road between Kyoto and Tokyo, with classic haiku (Basho, Issa)-- its landscape format and tied pages. Obsession with Japan.

A copy of Upon the Sweeping Flood, short stories by Joyce Carol Oates, the mass market edition in Avon Books from the supermarket, with my mother's hair dye all over it--she used to read it when she was waiting for her Clairol to work. This was my textbook when I was learning to write short stories. Man, those early short stories...

A little mass market paperback of Poe, with a purple and black cover, that my older brother used to read me when my parents were out… "It wasn't the old man he hated, it was his VULTURE EYE…." YOW.

Under The Volcano, in Penguin, tiny tiny type… I read this on a year abroad in England, had a fever and believed I was in the story. About the time I decided to become a writer.

Books by friends who had been in Kate Braverman's workshop with me, and started publishing one after the other have incredible memories for me--Les Plesko's Last Bongo Sunset; Donald Rawley's Slow Dance on the Fault Line; Samantha Dunn's Failing Paris; Mary Rakow's The Memory Room; Rita Williams', If the Creek Don't Rise; Josh Miller's The Mao Game.

And man, the first book by a student of mine, Denise Nicholas's novel Freshwater Road.

I remember vividly the trashy novels I read from my parents' library when I was a kid--my dad (a voracious reader, the guy who gave me Crime and Punishment at age 13) loved all the Ross McDonald, Raymond Chandler, James M. Cain, Erle Stanley Gardner, Dashell Hammetts… I remember the big serif type faces on the Ross McDonalds, the great titles of the Gardners. We had all the James Bond books--what titillation!--which Ive kept as a set, I even teach What is a Scene using the Rosa Klebb recruitment of Tatiana in From Russia With Love. (Russia again.) I learned about sex from James Bond, and irony from Raymond Chandler.
In the fifties, even good books had trashy covers. I remember "Bohwani Junction" with some Sophia Loren look alike with half her clothes gone, the lurid cover to Kerouac's The Subterraneans.

I loved all the books published by Black Swallow press, a California publisher whose books had a certain heavy matte paper cover and thick creamy pages--they published John Fante's great LA novels like Ask the Dust and Wait until Spring Bandini, and a favorite poet, Diane Wakoski including The Motorcycle Betrayal Poems and Waiting for the King of Spain. My hands love a Black Swallow Press book. I'm currently reading Wanda Coleman's Mercurochrome, in its delicious Black Swallow edition.

I also love New Directions books--I have a bunch of Denise Levertov poetry books in ND paperbacks, small slim with photographic black and white covers the perfect size to slip in your backpack. And City Lights books, like Ginsberg's Howl… that small square format.

There was a book, a naughty pseudo-memoir written by Patrick Dennis, author of the very famous Auntie Mame, called Little Me, the self-justifying tongue in cheek autobiography of "Belle Poitrine" (means beautiful bustline) oh so innocent of the trouble she gets herself into, where the seminude photographs completely belie the text--hilarious. I remember reading it at about age 11 or 12. Perfect age to be scandalized by it.

The Sword in the Stone, by TH White--the navy cloth binding, a big chunky book, in which I became a tree, a fish, a hawk, a mountain--the metamorphoses are what I remember the most.

Obviously I am an aficionado of the book as an artifact as well as of the story, I don't think I could ever feel as affectionate or nostalgic about something I read in digital form. The medium is the message.

What are the books that are meaningful to you?

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Brittany Morgan The Great Gatsby and Romeo snd Juliet are two works dear to me. The Great Gatsby is the first adult work of fiction I remember enjoying, respecting, a The Great Gatsby and Romeo snd Juliet are two works dear to me. The Great Gatsby is the first adult work of fiction I remember enjoying, respecting, and falling madly into the details and symbolism and everything it had to offer. It remains a favorite and a book I read yearly.

Romeo and Juliet, although clichéd as far as Shakespeare goes, is a favorite because it was the first time I felt smart because I learned how to Underatand what felt like a foreign language. At the time I felt I understood their undying love for each other. But I have grown so much and typically roll my eyes at the two main characters but love the dialogue, the character of Nurse, and more. It is just the story of how so many choices could have brought a good outcome and instead everything that could go wrong did go wrong. I see it in a whole different light than the first time but thoroughly enjoy it.
I am 23 now and trying to get outsid my comfort zone. I feel like Charles Bukowski will be something that sticks with me for the rest of my life. I enjoy his lack of story and mostly autobiographical writings. Every book I have read so far always picks up and leaves in the middle and I feel like that is just life.
And in all honesty, White Oleander has been another book that has affected me deeply in my love for reading. Before it, Memoirs of a Geisha was my favorite descriptive book. I adored Arthur Golden's time and dedication to getting the life of a geisha accurate and really building a world for the reader, one that could be understood but was still foreign to most. White Oleander did the same thing for me. Recently I traveled to LA and did nothing in the city but went to Venice as we (my husband and I) hated the city. I was saddened I did not read your book first because the city felt like many different people and very alive the way you described it. The detail and poetry in your novel was beautiful but worked so well with Astrid as an artist brought up by poet mother. I remember thinking how that was the first time in a long time being impressed with not only a story but also the writing style and attention to detail.

There is nothing that has been meaningful in that it seems I read it at the perfect time or that it relates to anyone meaningful. All of those listed just feel as though they live inside me and have helped me grow as a reader. Thank you so much for that experience. I truly look forward to reading more of your works and wish you the best in whatever life has to offer you. ...more
Apr 21, 2015 04:00AM · flag

Brittany Morgan PS - to anyone who may read this, I apologize for any errors. I made the mistake of replying from my phone.
Apr 21, 2015 04:05AM · flag