I always loved books. When I was a schoolgirl, I used to be often hidden behind a pile of books. The passion for the stories and the characters made me feel that one day I wanted to become a writer too.
A huge library full of fiction is a great dream of mine. It even fulfills me with gratification when walking along the bookshelves in the book shop. I especially love to watch the archaic books in the ancient hand-made binding, and yet I usually read modern prose.
Usually doesn’t mean always.
I’ve read some pretty old stuff such a Shakespeare or The Decameron by Boccaccio. I’ve read some a bit younger books such as The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde or, of course, Dracula by Bram Stoker. They all are so adorable, and partly because of the time they were made.
When it comes to the first part of the last century, I can’t mention anyone else than Rex Stout. I love his Nero Wolf stories. My vision of comfy literature. I read it again and again, and since my memory is horrible, I’m always nicely surprised by the fact who is the bad guy there, the villain, the killer. I grab it to the bed with me when sick, I go after it when feeling blue. As I said, perfectly comfy books.
There are plenty of authors from the turn of the century I adore.
It would be a long list, and because of the fear, I could forget someone I rather leave this open.
There are a couple of writers I want to mention, though.
Chuck Palahniuk would be the first one coming to my mind. I love his style, this is pretty much it. His characters and the way he writes is so enjoyable I can’t way till another his piece of work is published. If I should recommend some, those will be Survivor or Lullaby.
There was time I was buying each Lee Child novels with Jack Reacher. The essence of what you expect from good adventure thrillers.
I’m a fan of Steven King, James Patterson, Jeffery Deaver, Thomas Harris, Dean Koontz, and many more authors I’ve read one or two books totally enjoyed and then forgot.
Recently I got obsessed with Chris Charter novels. I read them breathless, and it would be so hard to pick one I loved the most. If I really had to, I would go for En Evil Mind or The Death Sculptor.
The feeling of opening a book, get the body to relax, and start to read the very first words are impossible to describe. It’s not like I can’t to; much more, I want everyone to experience it on themselves.
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