100 books like Blackberry Wine

It always seemed unfair to me that not only do we get just one life, but we only get to live it once. So I fell in love with this novel from the moment I read its premise: Ursula Todd is born and dies and is born again… and again… and again.

I love that she doesn’t remember her previous lives except as vague intuitions that help her avoid making the same mistakes twice–and I also love that avoiding those mistakes often means she makes other (often fatal) mistakes. I found this book funny, moving, and thought-provoking, but what I love most about it is the way its down-to-earth, realistic style allowed me to fully inhabit the impossible conceit at its heart. 

This is the first pure fantasy book I had ever read. In the summer break between my 4th and 5th Grade, while my Mom, little brother, and I were visiting my grandparents in California, I was at the pool. I loved going to the pool and swimming, but this day, my Uncle Dave lent me a battered paperback of his favorite book. Instead of swimming, I was reading this amazing story. And while it was a few more years before I was able to tackle The Lord of the Rings, this was the beginning of my love for fantasy.

The Hobbit is a fun adventure. Some danger. Some whimsy. Tragic death. I could not put this book down.

This book was first published in 1910. When I think of H.G. Wells, I think of his story about a time machine but this story, which I studied in school, was about changing your life, living your dream. Magic happens when Mr. Polly attempts suicide with the result that he becomes a hero and frees himself from the chains that bind him. I learned that all is possible. One does not need to be young, beautiful, and run a 4-minute mile to achieve one’s goals. With this thought in mind, I have run a marathon and entered two triathlons, finishing both and not coming last! I began my writing career at 70 years of age and am now the author of 5 books on mystery, history, and magic. 

A bit of a cheat, I confess, as this is a play. But what a play. Stories within stories. Characters so real, they are flesh and blood. And so much magic, real magic, delivered by a fairy queen and king, fairies, and a hobgoblin called Puck. As an author I learn so much from Shakespeare’s plots. He is able to describe human behaviour so well. I enjoy losing myself in magic or fantasy, suspending reality. (I just thought of Harry Potter). 

This is French peasant life in its last days, a life rendered from the outside by one who became an insider.

Berger went to live and work among the peasants of the French south in 1962. This world, like that of Spain at much the same time, saw the death of the old peasantry. It is not a work of observation like Norman Lewis’s book but a series of fictional stories. It treats peasants as human beings, on an equal standing with all others in society. They have depth and gravity. Just like us all.

How awful most writing about peasants is. This stands out proudly from that awfulness. 

The main reason I love this book is that Jeffrey Greene is a wonderful writer. The story of how he and his wife (and eventually his mother as well) made their home in an ancient, rundown presbytery in a village in Burgundy provides a vivid, real-life picture of life in a French village for a couple of Americans. Greene’s approach allows us to not only see the French as he sees them, but also how they must see him and his wife. His deep respect and affection for his wife, his mother, his neighbors, life in France, and the beauty of nature shine throughout, all rendered in beautiful prose. And the many funny little stories he tells make me laugh out loud every time I reread this book. 

A twenty year old American woman goes to Paris to paint, meets a French artist, marries, has a child, and together buy a farmhouse and make a summer home and art studios in rural Brittany: that story. A memoir. 

The book was published in 2008, but the story takes place in the early 1960s when rural Brittany was closer to the 19th century than the 21st. I was in Paris in 1967, and it was still possible to rent a hotel room for under five dollars a night, to travel in Europe for ten dollars a day. In 1967, you could not safely drink the water in France, including in Paris, and you had to have proof of a typhus vaccine to return to the U.S. It was still more Henry Miller’s Paris than Macron’s.

This was the time of the last of every day berets, blue… show more.

I loved this author’s brilliant writing and also the sense of menace that oozes from every page. As each page turns, you delve deeper into mundane activities with family filled with the possibility of murder. Culminating in a clever ending, carrying out an everyday household task.

A very clever book that I’ve read time and time again. Even long into the night.

As a huge fan of Ian McEwan’s early novels with their dark drama, especially The Innocent, I initially gave up on this book after the first 70 pages—but then, thankfully, resumed a while later. 

What seemed a genteel novel about manners transforms into something much more sinister and dramatic. I loved the tense atmosphere of it, with much of the story condensed into one hot pre-war summer’s day and then the later serious repercussions from what, at the time, seem fairly harmless childish actions.

I’m always a fan of graphic novels that capture the mood of the book, rather than trying to make everything perfectly accurate to the original. Mariah Marsden’s adaptation of Anne of Green Gables perfectly captures the magic and beauty of one of my favorite childhood books.

I mentioned how much I enjoyed this adaptation to a friend who’s also a fan of L.M. Montgomery. However, my friend hated this adaptation (especially how Anne’s nose is drawn!) which I actually found very liberating as I considered adapting The Great Gatsby. I’d been concerned about how people who loved Gatsby would view my adaptation, but this made me realize that some people would love my book and some people wouldn’t—and that was okay!