What are books and stories and why do they make such an impression on us? Do they simply carry us away from the burdens of our own lives or do they speak truths to our souls with the familiarity they spark?
I find stories do all of the above, at once freeing and identifying, with imagination and solid help combined.
But why this story instead of that one? Why do I love this and you love that? Why don’t you understand the beauty that resonates so deep within me? Perhaps we are all made for certain types of stories, the proclivity bred into us from birth and molded deeper and deeper by our everyday circumstances. Perhaps it is entirely random and based solely on your introduction to the story and when. Whatever the reason, there are plenty of stories to go around. Let me tell you about some of them in the hopes my story unlocks your kinship with the books that made me.
Like many people, my favorite book is Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien, but little would my younger self have dreamed of such a thing. My path toward LOTR obsession was paved with obstacles and a very rocky start.
My family is pretty literary. There were giant bookshelves in my childhood home filled with books ranging from parenting books to detective novels with authors ranging from Louis L’amour to Tom Clancy. But we all loved fantasy and, at the tender age of nine, at the advice of my parents and older sister, I read the Shanara series by Terry Brooks.
I was too young. There were many things I appreciated and enjoyed, but a lot of the themes and situations the heroes found themselves in simply terrified and traumatized me. You can imagine my trepidation when my family’s next recommendation was LOTR. Trust had been broken. Confidences shattered. Who knew what horrors lay in wait for me due to their advice? This, coupled with being exposed to the 1977 Hobbit cartoon that frightened the wits out of me with their spiders in Mirkwood segment, led to an anti-LOTR stance in the Juli-nation.
Years passed and my fears had dulled, my maturity grown, and it was announced that the LOTR movies were being made. A fresh wave of urging swept my way. I just had to read the books before the movies came out. Didn’t I want to know what all the fuss was about? It wore my resistance down, but not my stubbornness. To yield was to admit defeat. What was the answer?
Why, to read them in secret, of course. Read them, I did. I consumed them: the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, the Silmarillion. My Tolkien fanaticism was fully born, only I couldn’t tell anyone. I had this new obsession to share and no one to share it with. I tried to be satisfied with secret gloating and continued conversations wherein I was still being sold on its merits, but it wasn’t enough. One day, I let slip too much insider information to my sister and she pounced on the knowledge. My secret was out, but at least now I could enjoy my fandom freely and in the open.
What do I love about it? I shall attempt brevity.
The worldbuilding is second to none. Entire cultures, histories, and languages flood the senses and the intricacies are boundless. It’s imaginative and deals with very real issues of good vs evil and how evil is defeated. It’s got humor, action, description, romance, vivid characters, a well-woven plot, and takes my breath away with its message of hope.
I’m not sure the number of times I’ve read it through, but I do know that whenever I finish, I simply turn to the front and start over again.
The second book I love is a completely different type of story, but no less wonderful and no less honoring of nature.
Most people assume I would mean Anne of Green Gables when I say my favorite book was written by LM Montgomery, due to the red hair affinity. But, while I do love Anne, my heart was captured by the Story Girl and the Golden Road, her simple and delightful tales of children playing, laughing, arguing, imagining, and loving on a simple farm at the turn of the last century.
I was actually introduced to this book by watching the tv show it was based off. Road to Avonlea is a completely different show than the books, but it also conveys the joy of a simpler time and it is still one of my favorite shows. My grandparents used to record episodes off the tv on VHS tapes, commercials intact. I watched them over and over, memorizing even those commercials. And when I found out there were books, I gobbled them up. I still have my grandparents’ old copy.
All of Montgomery’s writing entrances me with her captivating descriptions of beauty in the outdoors, her humorous insights into human nature, and her love of children and encouraging them to be children. I often feel a curious sense of freedom when reading her novels and, though she can write darker when she wants to, most are a marvelously light read. I moved on to all the rest when I finished these two, but they remain special in my heart, not only because they were the first, but because there is a special magic, a meta quality that evokes a love of storytelling itself, embedded within its pages.
For my third selection, it was not a hard leap from Tolkien to C.S. Lewis. I was already familiar with Narnia, but once I learned of their great friendship, I devoured all of Lewis’s words, fiction and non-fiction. My favorite might surprise you—it’s the Great Divorce. Like some of his other books, he blends perfectly a great apologetic work of non-fiction into a story.
The premise is a question—what if the dead could take a holiday? but it’s so much more than that. It follows the path of a ghost on a day pass into heaven and all the conversations he hears of people’s besetting sins. These ghosts are surrounded by the glory of heaven, and yet they are so see-through that the grass hurts their feet and a drop of rain would go through them like a bullet. Angels and other souls try to help the ghosts release the thing that is holding them back so they can accept forgiveness and enter in. Sadly, most cannot.
The book is convicting, deep, insightful, and every time I read it, another point hits home. While not true fiction, it feels that way, despite its deeply apologetic nature. I loved it at once, but it also holds a special place in my heart because my favorite band, Caedmon’s Call, released a beautiful song based on the book, called the High Countries, and it quickly became one of my favorites as well. I recommend both.
It might feel like cheating to talk about an entire series, but the Christy Miller Series detailing the fictional life of teenage Christy Miller, truly all goes together. Robin Jones Gunn is a prolific writer, and, I’m sure, a huge influence on an entire generation of Christian girls all over the world.
I was first introduced to these books because my sister had been given them as a gift. In true sister fashion, she didn’t want me to read them too. She claimed I didn’t treat books well. However true that was, I’m honestly not sure, but I can defend myself now and claim an ability to handle books with care.
I eventually found the books hidden in the hollow center of the wooden shelf that held our fish tank. An excellent hiding spot, although I’m not sure the dirt and cobwebs were any better caretakers than I would have been. Once I found them, I began to read the books in the middle, for a reason I cannot fathom. When my sister caught me, she was outraged, but eventually yielded to me a choice–I could read just that one book or I could read all of them.
My nine-year-old self was apparently so offended that I stubbornly chose to read just that one. I wonder if that’s what she was counting on! I’m not sure if she relented or I begged, but I eventually read all the books in the series. And they have been a part of my life ever since.
Gunn has written many sequels and they always seem to find me at the right time. I was younger than Christy when I read the books, but I identified strongly with her stage of life. And as Christy grew up, went to college, got married, and had kids, it felt like I was growing along with her. Her relationships with God, her husband, friends, and family really helped to show me the possibilities of where I wanted to be in my own life.
I know if I ever have a daughter of my own, these are books I will gift her.
The Only Alien on the Planet by Kristen D. Randle is a book I feel came into my life by chance. As I recall, my sister got it from the library one day and shared it with me when she was done. It’s an extremely well-written book with quite a unique plot and I know it’s won several awards. But I’ve never met anyone else who has read it and it feels like the kind of book you have to be ‘in-the-know’ to appreciate.
It follows a young girl moving to a new town and encountering a boy who, though clearly intelligent and functional, is completely non-verbal and extremely anti-social. Through a series of circumstances, she is able to peer into his life and murky family history while growing and learning quite a bit about herself in the process.
It’s a book that speaks to the loneliness in all of us and though there are dark themes, it is written in a lighter vein that I am grateful for. Plus, she talks a lot about classic movies, another favorite thing of mine. To this day, I continue to read it, and love its nuances.
So there you have it, works of fiction that have inspired me, shaped me, grown me, and influenced what I read and how I write. I do suggest all of them if you get the chance. And when and if you do, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Sharing obsessions is another hobby of mine.
It’s also been a hot minute since I’ve written a blog post. My hiatus lasted a bit longer than I thought as I planned my wedding and settled in to my new marriage. But I’m a bit more organized now and you can expect a blog post on the last Friday of the month going forward. They’ll be more like this, talking about fiction and the writing process and there will also be lots of behind-the-scenes information about my next writing project which should commence very soon now. I hope you’ll subscribe and join me on that journey.
J.A.Sellers and Peace Prayers 