Summer reading list

A bit ago, Steve Whittaker posted a query about summer reading lists on his blog. (BTW, Steve, why is your blog showing up all super large print these days?) I love the idea of a summer reading list. I shared what I've got going between pages for these hot days, but I'm interested in what you're reading, too.

I developed a habit of reading entire author's works once I discover I like them. It all started the fall that everyone else went back to college and I, newly married, expecting my first child, incredibly lonely and depressed, did not. My writing teacher from the previous semester, Kirk Curnutt (great interview, here) had recommended two things: John Irving and A Prayer for Owen Meany. Since writing teachers have always held great sway with me, influencing more than I ever want them to know, I became acquainted with Irving that fall. I read everything. Chronologically, backwards, back to the beginning so I could appreciate the growth of the writer.

This style of reading set a precedent for me. Currently I'm doing the same with the work of Margaret Atwood. While I'm no where near as infatuated with Atwood as I am Irving, I do have an appreciation for her style, and enjoy the paperback editions as poolside reads (bought for $2.50 apiece at the New Dominion bookstore on the downtown mall).

Don DeLillo has reached into my reading life in much the same way. I read Underworld as part of a book club, and suddenly realized I'd read his work before, in the form of a short story, included as a chapter in the novel. The story? The Angel Esmerelda, written several years before the novel. It is a captivating, haunting story.

I have a theory that applies generally to movies about the squirm factor. If you're wondering what time it is before the car chase or before our hero has gotten the girl, then it's probably a bad movie. A similar theory, I think, applies to written works. If I still remember some piece of it later, and later still (years! eons!) then I deem it successful. If I can't get it out of my head, then dear author, you're mine and I'll line up at the bookshelves head cocked to the side, seeking out your earlier and earliest works.