Every Author Has An Influence (10 Novels That Helped Create Mine)

Reading and writing. You can't have one without the other.

My life and the way I lead it has been influenced by many things. Most likely, I'll discuss the majority of them in later posts. But, for now, I'd like to refer to the fiction that I've come across and how the words and worlds of others have been an inspiration and a motivator in my attempts to write.

I've always loved books. To hold them, to smell them, to admire their beautiful covers - sometimes embossed, sometimes flexible, sometimes indestructible - is to love a book. Thanks to my generous parents, I was privileged to start exploring the land of fiction from an early age. Childhood imaginary sojourns included Harry Potter, The Hobbit, Famous Five, His Dark Materials and Mortal Engines. These progressed further in my teenage years to fantasies such as the wonderful Skulduggery Pleasant and The Spook's Apprentice and classics such as War and Peace (took me aeons) and Wuthering Heights. All have made an impact in some way, but only the following have had a lasting impression.

GREAT EXPECTATIONS (Charles Dickens)

My first Dickens remains my favourite. Without a doubt, this was my first realisation that the simple words on a page can transport a mind through time and space. I latched myself instantly to the character of Pip and felt his every piece of anguish, fright and happiness. As with all Dickens novels, the characters that inhabit them are so vivid, you could imagine them standing right there in front of you, enunciating their dialogue like an actor on stage. Miss Havisham in particular struck me as someone so genuinely astonishing, I was afraid to travel to London for fear of encountering her at a wealthy estate. With relationships, Dickens always has this innate power to forge ties between his characters that are genuine and thoughtful, particularly between that of Pip and Joe (his brother-in-law, yet father figure). Despite being written and set in a completely different era, as a young lad I felt so connected to the narrative as to want to be there to help.

Renowned for directing his stories around morality, Dickens perhaps influenced me the most when it comes to seeing the world and how I react to it. Pip and his connection with Estella has always struck a melancholy chord with me, whether it be romantic or platonic. It's a testament to this phenomenal author (whom we still read avidly today), that he was able to see light through the terrible darkness that was the age of extreme poverty, inequality and aristocratic ascendancy. Interesting, as well, that I saw so many parallels throughout history where Dickens' stories could very well be relatable.

TRYSOR PLASYWERNEN (T. Llew Jones)

For the Welsh readers and learners, I couldn't recommend this book enough. At a time when I was exploring genres across the spectrum of fiction, and when my Welsh language was becoming reliable, this particular story brought it all together. Spooky, mysterious, adventurous and cosy, this was a fine example of Jones' mastery of children's literature. Always known for his epics about treasure and smuggling, this was perhaps his most relatable version of that trope, bringing an element of youthful curiosity that peaked my interest more than the rest. His control of tension and speed of narrative always brought me back, making it perhaps the fastest reading session I had a the time (I must have read it at least ten times since). 

Its influence on me remains to this day as a reminder that every plot diversion requires a purpose. If you've got your reader hanging on a cliffhanger, there must be something the other side that tempts you onwards and reels you in with delicious bait. He always managed it with me. With Trysor Plasywernen, he also balanced the tone so well, keeping a dark atmosphere over a light-hearted mystery that would excite any young mind. This is one where I can never forget that feeling of reading it for the first time.

TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD (Harper Lee)

Required reading for my English Literature GCSE, this was perhaps the only one of the curriculum-approved prose that made a significant dent in my psyche. To be perfectly honest, my knowledge of American history was pretty poor before grasping the events that occurred within this novel, and it has since sparked a lot of necessary research on my part. There's no doubt that it's an important work for it's time, but it is limited by its perspective. As a white person myself, Harper Lee's visual journey through the eyes of Scout allows a window into a world where privilege is accepted by white people, but fought for and died for by black people. That world terrified me, and even more terrifying to think that only in recent history have things started to change (though not nearly enough). 

At the time of reading this novel, Barack Obama had recently become President of the United States, and the weight of that appointment was not lost on me. If nothing else, the actions of Atticus Finch, the undiluted prejudices of common individuals within the novel, and the naivety or innocence of children are all parts to seeking an understanding of human nature. And I quickly realised how complicated people are in general. What Lee does really well is offer up flawed characters with extremely flawed opinions about the world without removing the awkwardness. The reading experience is rewarded for that realism. It would be a lie for my to say that analysing these injustices in English class did not direct my attention somewhat. Ever since, I've been trying to be a better person, remain open-minded to the world, and understand how my world may in fact be very different to someone else's. 

FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON (Daniel Keyes)

Continuing with the theme of prejudice, Flowers for Algernon takes this a step further, opting to give an astonishingly poignant first-hand account of Charlie Gordon, someone who was born with a mental disability. Throughout the novel, Charlie's intelligence follows a Gaussian curve, with the use of surgery, becoming gradually intelligent to the halfway point and then regressing back to his original competency. The changes to his life and the reactions of people around him are visceral; a reminder of how someone treats someone else often adapts considering their personality and speech. The profound effect this had on me was to wonder whether there's an advantage to intelligence over kindness. Charlie is always kind throughout, sometimes in a subtle fashion, but it's only with intelligence that he gains the respect that he deserves.

It's a common trait in the real world that someone who is perceived as intelligent is often placed on a higher pedestal. What this story attempts to rectify is how competely antithetical to humanity that fact is. The ethicality of experimenting on someone's cognitive capabilities neglects to point out that kindness trumps all the actions of Humanity, offering a better world to those who give it, but especially those who receive it. As a wholly science-fiction novel, this was the first to use outrageous ideas with truly breathtaking simplicity. It's one of my favourites for a reason,

THE LEFT HAND OF DARKNESS (Ursula K. Le Guin)

As I've explored science-fiction further, I've quickly realised how influential and superlative some of its contributors are. Considered one of the greatest to ever write, Le Guin remains one of my favourite authors. I could have included The Dispossessed and Earthsea here too, but if was to choose one it was always this particular gem. Interestingly, the premise didn't grip me at first. I was only tempted by the rave reviews, and how glad I was to finally discover that truth. Despite having many prevalent sci-fi tropes, the story and worldbuilding itself is brilliantly original. Its use of androgony as a social construct was an eye-opener for me, allowing to grasp a whole bunch of possibilities that I would never have alllowed myself before. There's also elements of cultural integration, the respect one person has for another belief or tradition, and the kindness one can show for appreciating that difference. 

A reader could easily fall into this book and find its political background very engaging, but what feels more powerful with this novel, as with all of Le Guin's, is her ability to add multiple layers of emotion for her main characters, giving their souls a definition. This isn't a conventional love story, it's one where two individuals separated by a cultural chasm find harmony by breaking away from the shackles of their regimented lives. That's a phenomenal tale to tell. More importantly, it reminded me that our societal roles are sometimes masks we where over our true nature.

THE SIRENS OF TITAN (Kurt Vonnegut)

After leaving school, I'd decided to try my hand at physics with astronomy in university, with mixed results. It was around this time, I decided to rekindle my love of writing and start anew with a fresh narrative. For inspiration, I turned to a few science-fiction masterworks. Vonnegut had always been lauded as a humanist, and perhaps this particular tome demonstrated that intention perfectly. Quirky in its premise, the Sirens of Titan riffs off a physics concept of quantum mechanics and takes it to a wonderfully meaningful resolution. It's the sort of story that sits in its own pocket universe, a man that can seemingly traverse the Solar System, offering opportunities for people to visit and amass a great fortune. Meanwhile another man and his companion dog find themselves spiralling towards the star Betelgeuse. It's wacky, unhinged and just plain brilliant. 

Through inter-connected stores, Vonnegut finds a common truth to all events, despite the ridiculousness of some of their situations. Where inspiration really strikes is the fact that the author uses the quantisation of all things to manipulate time, effectively changing the evolution of humanity in minute ways to allow a different present. It's one of the many fascinating ways science-fiction can pay homage to science, while also stretching its reality, promising a future where this could be possible - at least within our own minds. It was that sort of storytelling that I was never brave enough to attempt. After reading this, I certainly felt braver.

HYPERION (Dan Simmons)

Without a doubt, my favourite novel of all time. Hyperion is epic in every sense of the word. Fuelled by a meta-narrative in which significant characters in this future universe tell the tales of their lives, there's such a hotpot of genres complimenting each other, it's a wonder Simmons managed to keep it all together. Imagine, if you will, a mission where all those involved are gathered onto a spaceship and sent to their doom. None of them know each other, but through the sheer act of fireside storytelling they unveil their darkest truths. Slowly but surely you learn how all these people are vital for the endgame, each contributing a new flavour of lives, but every puzzle piece fitting perfectly into the collection. And tying it all together is one of the most terrifying villains known to literature. The Shrike. For those who haven't read it, I won't say more, but the methodology of this novel is genius, carefully orchestrating an ending that may seem quiet, but holds so much meaning.

What pulls me into this one more than the rest is the unapologetic complexity. It doesn't shy away from having multiple characters, nor does it hold back on dark themes, taking extremely emotional twists at the turn of a page. To cap it off, the futuristic settings are immersive and believable. I feel every time that I was wandering those streets on Tau Ceti Centre, visualising the death of the Earth at the hands of a black hole, and crying with the Consul at the fate of his daughter. That last one is perhaps the most shocking twist I've ever read in a book. More than any other, this tale has propelled me onwards to be honest in my writing, to the point of visceral.

THE THREE-BODY PROBLEM (Cixin Liu)

Contemporary in its telling, the Three-Body Problem however feels more advanced than many stories with similar veins. This is an alien invasion told unconventionally. The way Cixin uses modern devices to attract danger in the first place is unlike anything you'll ever read. And like the Sirens of Titan, this novel doesn't shy away from touching on famous physics concepts and using them to make massive leaps in storytelling. There are chapters in this novel that involve people acting as computer programmes to direct a planet away from inevitable destruction; it's a symphony of science-fiction that is as delectable as it is unprecedented.

Ever since I turned eighteen, I've had a weird, morbid fascination with politics, and often find myself getting angry at the way most politicians seek votes, commendation or just plain old power by using emotional manipulation or corruption. Often that has been a catalyst for the way I write and what I include. But where I've felt my notions have been clumsy, the Three-Body Problem has set me right, giving me a template for pairing politics seamlessly with science-fiction, making it seem as though they are part and parcel. This isn't Star Wars warfare, it's genuine conference room drama with unilateral decisions being made about how the human race proceeds to save itself from the ultimate demise.

TO BE TAUGHT, IF FORTUNATE (Becky Chambers)

A suprise to be sure, but a delightful one. Definitely not something I would normally read, Becky Chambers' novella is experimental science-fiction with a flair of realism that harkens back to the horror of a film like Alien or the grittiness of an Arthur C. Clarke epic. From the moment I started reading this, I found its introspective, personal nature to be an affecting journey. Like it was talking to me, affectionately. To put it simply, this novel covers the lives of four astronauts, living intermittently between suspended animation and exciting sojourns onto extraterrestrial planets to examine local species. The attention to detail is brilliant, helped along by Chambers' immersion in astrobiology from a young age. It reminded my that there's more to sci-fi than just physics and astronomy, there are branches of science that I feared to tread, but will be necessary to research should I want my own to have clarity of truth.

This key part of the Wayfarers series is a stroke of mastery in fiction that doesn't come around often, namely as it takes its character-driven storyline so seriously, there's a risk of forgetting a plot. But the ending will grip you tight and give you that mix of claustrophobia and agoraphobia that only an astronaut could have at being stranded like debris floating in the depths of space.

ANFARWOL (Peredur Glyn)

I'm ever so slightly cheating here, as this was a new read and hasn't been out as long as really necessary to have that much of an impact on my first novel. But it would be sacrilege not to include it and wax lyrical about the influence it will have on the rest of the Cosmogenesis Hexad. For those who are Welsh readers, I urge you to get a copy of this book. For those who are English readers, I hope for your sake this will get a translation. Never have I been so enamoured so quickly by a novel, especially one that sets it's premise in history before metamorphing quickly into a fantasy of catastrophic proportions. The ride is so rapid that you often find yourself looking back and wondering where all that time went. It covers the life of a seemingly hapless actor who finds himself in the strange quandry of being immortal, but then finds himself embroiled in the shenanigans of a strange cult in red robes who worship the strangest of deities. You think that sounds bonkers, wait until you reach its climax. 

If anything, the Welsh language is perhaps the most important device in this story, and that will also be true in mine. I was fortunate, thanks to my parents, that I was able to discover, learn and breathe Cymraeg as if it's some spiritual entity that has possessed me and stoked my passion. It feels like that for a lot of Welsh people, like the words themselves have connection to the soil, like a strange magic that causes the wind to blow, trees to grow and mountains to quake. Anfarwol inhabits that same mysteriousness, taking a step further to reminding everyone that our heritage and culture are jewels to be protected. From my perspective, it has certainly lit a fire under my arse and got me singing for my country. Sometimes a song takes a while to compose.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS

There are so many books I could have included on this list that I would still wholeheartedly recommend for those young and old. Reading in general is such a freeing experience. I have such vivid and fond memories of turning particular pages, like they're a snapshots of life spread out on a canvass. My head was buried in Stormbreaker (Anthony Horowitz) at lunch time in primary school. I recall waking up at my grandparents' house on Boxing Day, insisting on reading The Graveyard Book (Neil Gaiman) while everyone else had breakfast. Crossing from youth to adult with Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (Philip K. Dick) was perhaps not the best handhold, but blimey did it revitalise my neurons. For its sheer size, scope and effort, A Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin) will always entice me with its maps, kingdoms and characters. And no science-fiction collection is complete without the gargantuan worlds that are Dune (Frank Herbert) and Helliconia (Brian W. Aldiss).

Unfortunately, as always with these lists, things will get left behind. I am always open to recommendations and suggestions and love to hear about a book that changed lives. Feel free to comment or contact me directly with stories that made the world a bit different for you.

Diolch,

T. L. Firth