The above is a great video by CheckedOutShow about the 5 authors she wants to read and hasn’t.


I’ll do you one better. 5 authors that I own their books, and I haven’t read them yet. But I really ought to get to them. This is what collecting too many books feels like.


5. Margaret Atwood. I have so many. Because she’s a feminist writer and a fantasy writer (though apparently she doesn’t want to admit to that last part), and my friend who is also an eater of books recommends her highly. When I start, it’ll probably be with The Handmaid’s Tale, because that seems to be the one that most people love, so that feels like a recommendation to me.


4. Tabitha King. I have three of her books, all of them from a library sale. I don’t honestly know if just her being married to Stephen King is going to do a thing for me as far as her writing style or anything else goes. I admit to feeling obligated, because hell it’s Stephen King’s wife. I have a morbid curiosity about what she’s writing.


3. Isaac Asimov. I have several books by him, including two of his most noteworthy works: The Foundation Trilogy and I, Robot. I think my trepidation comes from not wanting to read it, find I don’t like it, and then feel like I missed something everyone else “got”. Happened to me with Heinlein, and the idea of it happening again makes me weary. But from what I hear, Asimov is a very different animal, and I really want to give it the ole college try.


2. China Mieville. I heard about him for the first time ever last year. Probably some of you will think I’ve been living under a rock, but I sort of live on recommendations, and no one had ever recommended him to me. Until suddenly I started seeing rather a lot of encouraging things about how original and unique and wonderful his fantasy writings are. So I have two of his books just sitting there, staring at me. I need to get on that.


1. Haruki Murakami. 1Q84 came out, and there was an explosion over this guy. I noticed. Especially because the book was supposed to be tied in with 1984, and I love 1984. I logged that away. Then it seemed a bigger explosion happened, and all his books were being raved about. So then I picked some up at a used bookstore, along with some Vonnegut. And then the clerk said, “oh, you love Vonnegut?” Yes, I love Vonnegut. “Well, then you’ll love Murakami!” What exactly am I waiting for?