The best books with heroes you’ll root for, but not all of the time

When a prospective agent asked me who I most aspired to be like as a writer, I said Percival Everett. Her response was, ‘But you’re not black?’

To me, labeling Percival Everett as a ‘black writer’ does him a huge disservice because, above all else, he’s unpredictable, quirky, and seriously funny. I love this book because it’s weird and subverted, with a hero who’s a mathematical expert in nothing–confronted by a villain who wants to steal and control nothing. It’s fun and frothy, with tangents and trapdoors all over the place. Like most, I came to Percival Everett via The Trees and backtracked. I'm glad I found him, though. 

Keith Waterhouse is a forgotten writer nowadays, which is a shame. His dreamy character, Billy Liar, is a brilliant creation and one for all ages–the original young man stifled by family, boredom, and expectations who wants to break free from it all and live out the life he’s already living for himself in his head.

I read this book when I was a teenager, probably because my Dad often called me and my brother ‘Billy Liar,’ such as when I told him I wanted to be a jockey. I was too heavy for that profession, even then (plus, I’d never sat on a horse and still haven’t). Still, that’s the joy and absurdity of this book; it takes the notion of following your dreams to a new and dangerous level.

Personally, I’m always fascinated with dreamers like Billy. But there are times when his life choices make you groan.

This is a book that has sparked a thousand imitations. If a writer isn’t honest, he’s not doing his job, and Nick Hornby is painfully honest here about his self-destructive, blokey obsessions with football and music. It’s a trailblazer of a book and a theme that resonates with a lot of men, me included.

Why would anyone seriously want to attend a family wedding when your team is playing in a cup final? How inconsiderate can a couple be to get married on the final day of the cup? To hold those thoughts–without a hint of irony–is viewed as an affliction and an absurdity by many. But of course, they don’t understand! 

I like Miles Jupp and his self-deprecating humor. I imagine him to be very polite. Here, he blags his way around India, trying to convince others–and himself–that he’s a cricket journalist.

The book is funny but also painful, a bit like watching The Office; you’ll laugh one minute and probably wince the next. Miles is often bumbling and apologetic and is not a very good ‘fibber in the heat.’ Yet he keeps on fibbing. Politely! People soon work him out, but all the same, he earns loads of sympathy as an underdog in desperate need of some charity.  

It's not an easy read, but I read this one and Cormac McCarthy’s The Road back-to-back. These are two books about lost souls walking away from something, not knowing where they’re going.

Michael K is another character who invokes more sympathy/pity than admiration. Sometimes, I didn’t overly care about Michael K’s suffering, feeling he’d brought it on himself. Mostly, though, I wanted him to find his simple peace.

JM Coetzee is such a good writer. His sparse but full sentences always deliver something.