My feelings about books (and the reading of them) are as pure and uncomplicated as the love of an infant for its mother. They are, to me, sustenance, inspiration, amusement, and always the best medicine. So serious is this relationship that I have a book tattooed on the inside of my left wrist.

One of my favorite bookish podcasts is “What Should I Read Next,” hosted by Anne Bogel. The schtick is that she has a guest (or occasionally guests) every week, and discusses their lives as readers, their lives in general, and what they’d like to change about their reading lives. She asks them this question: “tell me three books you love, and one book you hate,” and based on the whole informational stew, recommends three books that they might like.

I have listened to every episode, some more than once, and had moments of epic disbelief (the person who “really couldn’t get into fiction”) and moments of deep, universe-healing agreement (people who choose among their three favorites a book or series that I love and keep on my “most-loved” shelf. Well, one of my “most-loved” shelves. There’s the big shelf, and the Jane Austen collection that sits on my desk to remind me that I might at any moment choose to see the sights of Bath or take a long walk through green pastures to visit friends for tea and gossip. Although I look terrible in an empire waist.) Oh, and the books I keep near my bed in case of insomnia or spiritual crisis.

I really want is to be a guest on “What Should I Read Next,” and a frequent pastime is trying to figure out my answers to The Question. But picking only three books I love seems nearly impossible. Could I count a whole series as one? Do I pick things I’ve read recently or use all my picks, as I so easily could, on books I read before I hit high school?

Since Anne Bogel has not yet lifted me from obscurity, I’ve decided to use some of my “bookish” blog posts to give a series of answers to the “three thumbs up, one thumb down” question. (Really, I can do anything I want all up in here.) So, you may get some recommendations that are helpful, you may violently disagree or you might have all the feels of camaraderie and soulmate-ness that come when a kindred spirit loves the same books you love.

Here’s a round of answers based entirely on how I’m feeling right this minute. Also some bonus information about my recent and current reads.

Just finished: “What if it’s Us” by Becky Albertalli & Adam Silvestra. I have read, and loved all of her books starting with “Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda.” They are all YA, all super LGBTQ-inclusive (“What if it’s Us is a love story about two high school boys) and feature characters of many colors, religions and sizes. Highly recommended for you or a young person in your life.

Now reading: “The Book of Help: A Memoir in Remedies.” by Megan Griswold. I don’t usually read non-fiction unless it’s related to spirituality and/or health. This is the former, a memoir told in a series of vignettes about the many programs and modalities Griswold has tried in her life (TM, EST, Transactional Analysis and more) and all wrapped up in a pretty compelling package starting with a suspenseful hook.

Three Books I Love:

1. “The Secret History,” by Donna Tartt. This book is everything. If you’re me, anyway. It’s set in a small liberal arts school very much like the one I attended, and at about the same point in history (mid-80s.) It is very long, pretty elitist and full of itself, and has murders, many intense relationships (most of which are quite dark and quite twisted) and many references to studying the classics. It is the book equivalent of spending a few days with a really cool friend who has a well-broken in black leather jacket, smokes unrepentantly, tells stories you aren’t sure you can believe, and will lend you his or her stub of perfect black kohl to ring your eyes before heading out for the night.
2. “Family Happiness” by Laurie Colwin. Nobody wrote a modern comedy of manners better than Laurie Colwin, who we lost way too young. I’m not sure why this is my favorite of her books, except that the story of Polly Demarest and her (apparently) perfect life is so cozily domestic and well-regulated at times and so disorderly and sad at others. You know, like life. Also, it raises interesting questions about morality in the context of marriage.
3. “A Gentleman in Moscow” by Amor Towles. I think Towles is one of the greatest, living American writers. This novel tells the story of the 30 years in the life of Count Alexander Ilyich Rostov, who is placed under house arrest inside the Metropol Hotel in Moscow in 1922 by the Bolsheviks. In those decades he doesn’t leave the Hotel (despite many regime changes), and in his captivity he makes a life that far exceeds anything most of us can imagine. It’s like the Tardis, this book, with abundant life and possibility bubbling under the narrow, placid surface of captivity and restriction.

One Book I Hate: “The Deerslayer,” by James Fenimore Cooper. In high school there were several books I genuinely hated (this isn’t even the one I hate the most.) They were all focused on male characters doing things that didn’t remotely interest me, and if there were women in the story they were only mentioned in passing or caused said men to fall from grace because of their earthy, lustful ways (see “The Scarlet Letter.”) This one does not, I think, involve a woman doing anything. It involves men saving other men from stuff, fighting a lot with tomahawks and various other weapons, and…slaying the odd deer. That kind of says it all.