For a while, in my late 20s, when I turned to nonfiction, thinking it was the more adult thing to do, I stopped being a bookworm, not that I didn’t enjoy nonfiction. I did, immensely, but I wasn’t reading for pure pleasure. I was reading for knowledge, for inspiration, for guidance, for ideas. 

Even in my choice of nonfiction, I was an omnivorous reader, from biographies of my favorite people like authors and glamorous women to history, spirituality, environment, money, self-help, art, travel, health, etc. 

In 2013, the year after I published my book Write Here Write Now, I started devouring fiction again. I realized that my appetite for books was much bigger when I was just reading for fun. 

It’s almost impossible to choose the best five books I’ve ever read, but I’ll try to list down the five books, fiction or nonfiction, that, top of mind, made such a big difference in my life.

1. The World Without Us by Alan Weisman
    With all the things going on, all the catastrophic weather disturbances, I am happy I read this book a long time ago. I am rereading it now. It’s about time we let ourselves be humbled by nature, so we can stop abusing it, exploiting it, thinking of it as property we can dispense with in any way we please, to the point of compromising our very own survival.
 

2. The Adventurers by Harold Robbins
    I read this book as a child, as in before I reached puberty. This would not have been anywhere near my list had I not found a hardbound 1966 edition at a flea market recently. I am rereading it right now, too, and rediscovering what a gem it is (and I always thought of Robbins as pocketbook trash). All I remember from my childhood reading of it was that it was my sexual awakening.
 

3. The Elements of Style (Illustrated) by William Strunk, Jr., E.B. White, and Maira Kalman
    This is so cliche for writers, but things become cliche for a reason. I revisit it every now and then and sometimes come up with new things. For instance, in rereading it a few years ago, I discovered that while Strunk forbade ending sentences with a preposition, White approved it, even recommending it for effect in certain instances. The addition of American artist Maira Kalman’s drawings makes my most recent copy a joy to have. I am a fan of Kalman’s philosophical musings, which I first stumbled upon in her book The Principles of Uncertainty.
 

4. Remembrances of Things Past (A la recherché du temps perdu) by Marcel Proust
    I bought my three-volume English translation out of my college beer money. It was worth three Saturdays at home instead of the club with my friends. I believe that my Proustian pretensions have a lot to do with my penchant for long, meandering sentences, whose growing unpopularity has failed to deter me. The tragedy is I have yet to finish the first volume of this book, though it is right by my bed so I can read it when I feel like it. I guess it is my favorite because it will always be an unfinished business for me. It is also maybe the only book in the world that I read not so much to finish as to enjoy, long sentence by long sentence. In contrast, I recently read Tabloid City by Pete Hamill, where the sentences are short and staccato, almost like bullets, many are incomplete or come in fragmentary bursts separated by the period or the exclamation mark. I loved it.
 

5. The Power of Style: The Women Who Defined the Art of Living Well by Annette Tapert and Diana Edkins
    There must be a reason that in my entire career as a lifestyle journalist, I’ve spent maybe 90 percent of my time catering to women. I’ve had such interest in the great affairs of women since I was young. This book has everything I drool for, the glitz and glamour, the quirks, the lifestyles, heartaches, tragedies (and the larger-than-life personas) of the likes of Diana Vreeland, the Duchess of Windsor, Babe Paley, Elsie de Wolfe, C.Z. Guest, Coco Chanel...