La Alaskeña

Or if you do, judge kindly.

It was requested that I get over myself and post my favorite books. I will do so, but I’m leaving out my commentary (which was mostly justifying my choices). Besides, in a world where Twilight and Going Rogue are runaway bestsellers, do I really need to justify my (sometimes spotty) taste in literature? No. No, I do not. And I’m not including links because I’m lazy! So there.

Not going to lie: I mostly read magazines.

Bridget Jones’s Diary by Helen Fielding

Inferno by Dante

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Shut up. Just shut up. Also, Stern Men.

The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez

The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron

Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver

Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel

Anne of Green Gables (the whole series) by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates

The Labyrinth of Solitude by Octavio Paz

The Diaries of Anaïs Nin— the DIARIES, people. Don’t go reading Delta of Venus and then blame me for leading you down the path of eternal damnation. Although I hardly think Delta of Venus leads to eternal damnation but that’s a conversation for another day.

Writing Down The Bones by Natalie Goldberg

My Mother’s House and Sido by Colette

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

Anything by Bill Bryson, Alain de Botton, David Sedaris, Gregory Maguire, Hunter S. Thompson, and Mark Twain

I could go on but I’m not going to because I feel awkward. It’s obvious that there’s a gaping hole where Contemporary Literature should be but whatevs. I read for fun. If you do too, maybe you’ll like some of the aforementioned books.