Most teen writers don't have much they can write about besides pimples, unrequited "love," and the great evil of parents and other authority figures. Also, even if they have a good idea, they might not know how to make a great piece of writing.
To help young writers learn not only what makes good literature, but also how they can create it, here's a list of ten books a budding writer should read in high school. These are outstanding examples of certain writing principles that can shape young writers. (Whether or not they'll like these books, however, is another issue.)
For the purposes of this list, poetry and plays (sorry, Shakes) have been excluded. And watch out, a few minor spoilers ahead. If you need to know more about a work or its author, click on it for more info.
And now, in no particular order:
Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
Illustrated Principle: Plot is good. (So are characters with delightfully-odd names.)
One of the most important things in a thrilling, emotional, splendiferous piece of literature is how attractive the title font is. Another is plot. This and other Dickens novels are great examples. Sure, sometimes he goes on too much about facial features or eccentric office decor, but you have to admit, this guy's got pretty awesome storylines.
In huge, soap-operatic strokes of genius, Dickens throws twists in one right after another-"Pip is in love! Pip is unloved! Pip is rich! Pip is still unloved! Wait, what? That guy was Estella's dad! Holy General Hospital!" No one will tie things (characters, mostly) together more neatly than Dickens. Also, this book can help you decide how much detail you like writing-just enough? Or so much that people wonder if you were paid by the word?
The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck
Illustrated Principle: Universal Values = Bestseller and lots of prizes!!1!
Obviously, this is not the only book that features universal values. It is, however, one of the few widely-studied books in America that help the non-Asian majority understand Asians by putting readers smack dab in the head of a Chinese farmer.
Keep in mind that this book was published in 1931 when Americans were not exactly the most China-savvy people on earth. This novel connected with Americans and many others, featuring relatable issues like survival, poverty (see: Great Depression), self-esteem, generational differences, etc. To top it all off, this book showed Chinese life without racism, mockery, or bias.
Any book can have topics all cultures can relate to, but few books can teach one culture to begin to understand another.
The Red Badge of Courage, by Stephen Crane
Illustrated Principle: You can't use metaphors as life preservers, even if you inflate ‘em.
For a good laugh, read some of Crane's metaphors and similes. Like "The regiment, involved like a cart involved in mud and muddle, started unevenly with many jolts and jerks." Or this one about a general in the middle of battle: "He looked to be much harassed. He had the appearance of a business man whose market is swinging up and down."
Okay, RBoC has its merits, and some of the metaphors are lovely ("The red sun was pasted in the sky like a wafer" is pretty charming). After reading this, however, young readers are bound to want to control their urge to compare everything to something as a way of adding description and "color."
(P.S.: Try some of Crane's other stuff; they're better. Like his poem "In The Desert.")
Nineteen Eighty-Four
, by
George OrwellIllustrated Principle: The nitty-gritty of humanity is a doubleplusgood topic.
Well, that isn't a very good description of this book's greatest quality, but this book is just inconceivably awesome, and not just because it gave us Newspeak, 2+2 = 5, and "rebel from the waist down." Its message is enduring; its internal and external dialogue expose the inner workings of man's mind; and its characters are sympathetic, but real and flawed. 1984 gives young writers a level of meaning and influence to aspire to and encourages them to find a chord of humanity to strike.
Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte
Illustrated Principle: She told me that he told her that structure is important.
E. Bronte's only novel is a wonder of literary construction. Not only is it separated into two halves (Heathcliff's arrival - Cathy Linton's birth and from then - Heathcliff's death), but the narration itself is often likened to a Matryoshka doll (see: Russian nesting doll). At its most complex, it's a guy telling us what several characters said according to a letter from Isabella Linton that was sent to the woman who told him the story. If you haven't read it, don't worry, it makes sense when you read it, but you might need to pause and regroup every once in a while.
