When you’ve read as many books as I have, it’s nearly
impossible to name the five that have most influenced me in one way or another.
My mother was a great reader and was always recommending books to me from an
early age, and so the first three of these books were recommendations from her,
and all read when I was somewhere between eleven and thirteen years old.
Gone with the Wind (Margaret Mitchell): My mother’s
favourite book, if I remember correctly. When I saw the size of the tome she
was suggesting I read, I was a bit shocked but decided to give it a try. I was
hooked in no time. This was the book that, in retrospect – because I don’t
think I would have realised this at the time – made me appreciate the
importance of characterisation. Each individual is so distinct in their
actions, their words and the way they interact with others. And when I look
back and think how much we all adored Rhett Butler, who was – let’s face it –
not the best-behaved man around, and yet scorned the much nicer Ashley Wilkes.
There was a lesson there, I’m sure.
Exodus (Leon Uris): I don’t remember why I decided to read
this book, but it has never left me, although it’s many, many years since I read
it. I believe its impact on me stemmed from the fact that although it was a
work of fiction, so much was based on the truth. At that point I had no
interest in politics, but it helped me to understand the horrific way in which
people had been treated over the years – and still are – because of their
religion. It’s one of those books that I keep promising myself I will read
again.
Rebecca (Daphne du Maurier): A huge favourite of mine, I
suspect this was the book that made me appreciate that stories don’t have to
end with the ‘bad guy’ – ie the one who has committed murder – being caught.
The tension was created in the book by all manner of elements that weren’t
directly connected to the story of what happened to Rebecca and each in its own
way developed the tension. Apart from the obvious and truly terrifying Mrs
Danvers, the sea – always a forceful element to include – and the weather each
played a part in making the reader aware that something was going to surprise
us.
Tell No One (Harlan Coben): This was the first Harlan Coben
book I read, and I was much older by this time, of course. I had been a fan of
thrillers for years, but most of the ones I had read were largely predictable
in that there would most likely be a policeman, and he would – after lots of
scary moments – almost inevitably catch the villain. But this was just about an
ordinary guy whose wife had been dead for eight years. And then he is told to
log into a website, and he sees an image of his wife on a webcam. I think it’s
the first time I had read a thriller in which the story was told from the point
of view of a victim (or perpetrator) rather than from some member of law
enforcement. Although I have a policeman – Tom Douglas – and some scenes are
from his perspective, I always feel that my stories belong to the victims.
As this post is about books that changed my life, I have to
give a mention to Only the Innocent. Okay, it’s my book – but no other book has
changed my life as much as this. I wrote it for my own pleasure, with no
intention of trying to have it published. The decision to upload it to Amazon
was equally a spur of the moment one. But since that moment my life has changed
more than I can possibly say. I’ve moved home (countries, even), have come out
of retirement and written another five novels plus one novella, and have
travelled around the country meeting truly wonderful readers who are so
supportive. So I have to say that while the other books changed my perception
of so many things, Only the Innocent truly changed my life.
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