I hate a question that starts with, “What’s your favorite…”

I loathe having to make a choice. That’s not entirely true, I just feel like there is a time and place for one thing or another. Salty or sweet depending on the day. Or both, if that’s what I’m in the mood for.

My favorite color? To look at, to wear, to paint with? Favorite movie? For when I’m in a foul mood, for when I need a laugh, for when I want to be challenged?

You see what I mean? Context. It all comes down to the specifics of the moment.

That said, here are a few of my all-time favorite reads. Books that have left me quiet, introspective and immobilized for days at a time. Books I couldn’t put down. Books whose beauty made me feel like, “Well, that’s the last book I’ll ever read. How can anyone top that?” That is especially true for Pale Fire. I’m not sure there is a better book than that one.

So, here are my top picks. I’m sure I’m forgetting some, but these are the ones that have withstood the test of time (and memory):

A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce

The Botany of Desire by Michael Pollan

Catch 22 by Joseph Heller

Half Broke Horses by Jeannette Walls

The History of Love by Nicole Krauss

Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison

Pale Fire & Speak, Memory by Vladimir Nabokov

The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner

To the Lighthouse & Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson

I like a lot of nonfiction. In fact, it took me a while to really embrace the fiction world. Nabokov, Camus and Woolf helped me with that problem (could I sound more elitist?) I used to be kind of a book snob. Judgy and snooty about popular, summer reads. Now, I love those books. They don’t make my all-time favorite list but, they have their time and place.

Again, it’s all about what I’m in the mood for. Lately, I want a lighthearted, easy read. I’ve gotten similarly lazy with my audio endeavors. I used to listen to a ton of experimental and punk music. Now, I spend a lot of time in the genre I like to call “easy listening.” I’m not embarrassed to admit it. I also watch really crappy t.v. shows. My Netflix queue would horrify my 20-year-old self.

I think this is what they call, “getting older.”