The Book That Changed My Life

When I first sat down to think about which book ultimately changed me, I was stilled. How do you narrow down such an expansive list? How can you put one before the other? Each book a milestone, a turning point — a new lesson or experience compounding on top of the last. Each chapter a new day, each sentence a breath. Each individual word an expression of the authors creativity, passion, drive, and hard work.

Books, to me, (the ones I’ve read to the end, at least,) are like children. You don’t pick favourites. And I mean… even if you do, you shouldn’t openly admit it. Do I choose one of my nerdy children (non-fiction) or one of my wild and exciting ones (fantasy)? One of the rebel-without-a-cause types (horror) or one of the more sensitive souls (crappy, teenage, vampire-romance)?

And do you know what? Still, even mid-story, I can’t decide — what a kind and loving father I truly am.

That said, I do have what I suppose could be a favourite, though I keep it quiet and locked away in the furthest reaches of my mind. The hidden depths: so as not to upset the others, you know? Or invite judgement from those fake-perfect parents that never put a foot out of line.

And if you force me to summon it from the abyss and present it to the crowd, try not to expect too much of an explanation, because honestly, I’m not sure I can give you one. It’s just that perfect child, the beautiful one, the one everybody falls in love with in the street. One of the few that make people actually mean it when they gush and say “oh my god, he’s gorgeous!” Because we all know for the most part our babies just look like alien frogs, or some kind of deformed, shaven, testicle.

So here we go, after all this build up. Are you ready? My favourite book, the most fun I’ve ever had while reading, the book that kept me turning page after page until I had digested the entire thing in one sitting, with red eyes stinging (not from crying, I promise) and a back screaming in pain: Is none other than ‘Horns,’ by Joe Hill.

Why? I don’t know. It was that kind of book that took me on a real and genuine journey. Every emotion delivered by each character and situation landed perfectly for me, every scene, every scenario — fuck, I wrote paragraphs from that book and posted them to Facebook. The writing was phenomenal. And I remember getting twenty or so pages in and thinking to myself, “this guy really reminds me of Stephen King.”

And whaddayaknow, it’s his kid! That’s right folks, good ole’ Stevie, the fabled master of horror, called his son Joe… Joe King. Say it aloud for the slow ones in the back.

Any who, this book changed my life, because I discovered a true love for storytelling. Both reading it when it’s done well, and attempting to create it through these finger tips. The story inspired me — It also took me on a wild trip of ups and downs, with a couple gut-wrenching stomach pounds to go along with it.

I understood character arcs better, I started trying to weave mystery into storytelling. The very first page is a short, snappy paragraph. A perfect hook. And it lands better than any first page I’ve ever read in my life. If you ever read any of my fiction, you’ll see how this style permeates into my own work.

I’m here to tell you that if you haven’t read ‘Horns’ you simply must. And don’t go telling me you saw that damned movie because they aren’t even slightly the same. Horns changed my life because it changed my storytelling. It changed my understanding of certain concepts. It expanded my world view, kickstarted an interest in philosophy, and set a fire under my love of fiction. It told a damn good story too.

Go read it. Come back. Tell me you loved it. Receive the gift of my eternal friendship.

But you know, I never said anything about favourites. Favourite book?! I’d never choose…

* * * * *

Dont forget to subscribe.

Drop a heart if you enjoyed this story.

Drop a tip if you fancy helping me keep the lights on.

Read Next: