Everyone has books that live in their bones. Some sediment of emotion or change that has settled into their marrow and left them changed in a way they can't articulate. Over time, that sediment calcifies and those books become part of who we are. They shape our morality, our world views, our empathy... they become us.

I have my five books that have historically settled and fossilized and are inextricably linked to me as a person. I also have the modern, recent reads that I just know are doing something to me. Taking my ligaments apart and putting them in new places. Making room in my muscles and viscera for something new to grow and change me.

So... What are they?

The Butcher of Nazareth by David Scott Hay

This book was something entirely different. New. Hard to let go of. It touched on grief and faith and the importance of community in processing loss. Hay did something amazing with turning his lessons learned into a biblical cautionary tale to show his readers how unprocessed loss in isolation can turn you into someone you don't recognize. It can cost you everything.

The care and love this was crafted with is incredible. Paper weights, font styles, later inclusions of page stamps, text coloring... everything about this book from the contents to the structure was deliberate. It delivers a brutal message made all the more impactful by the love with which it was sent.

The Works of Vermin by Hiron Ennes

Never have I seen more beautiful, mad prose in a book. Ennes writes with a paintbrush the likes of which I rarely see in books. I am treated like I'm smart, I'm respected by the material, and they take the opportunity to show me what I am capable of. The characters are never what you think and never who you believe them to be. Nobody is all one thing and the character who are suffer because of it. It talks about denial and loss and art and politics and what it means to let someone be who they are.

The weirdness of this book never feels offputting or gross. It feels like texture and color and sound. Ennes proved that a book can live with me long after I finished it and make me rethink and turn over its lessons again and again without exhausting what I find in it. This was such a beautifully unexpected read that is feeding off of my attention.

Blood Over Bright Haven by M. L. Wang

I have never been forced to confront myself like I have in this book. Wang is fearless, direct, and wastes no time worrying about your feelings. She immediately makes you uncomfortable and forces you to look at horrible truths about yourself whether you like it or not. Some folks said this was too on the nose, but I disagree. I believe this book is exactly what it must be. Subtlety won't always get people to confront themselves and their biases. Wang found a way to dispense with the subtlety and not make it feel preaching or taunting. Instead, she takes you by the chin and asks, "Is this who you are deciding to be?"

The themes of otherness, inclusivity, intersectionality, and whether or not a haven is truly a haven if it's paid for in blood? Stunning. Layered. I'm still thinking about it months later.

Headlights by C. J. Leede

This rocketed to the top of my list when it made me bawl my eyes out at 10pm on a Saturday. It reads like a procedural turned folkloric horror, but it's so much more than that. It sinks its teeth into the rose-colored glasses of childhood memory. What does it mean to love and lose? Where do we put our grief when it's too big to hold onto? How do the ghosts of our past become a part of us? Leede puts Danny through so much to learn how to love wild things and make peace with the people he loves no longer being there for him to lean on. She made me consider what it is to let someone in, the fear of leaving a part of yourself with someone and trusting them to care for it.

This book told a wild story in such weird and wonderful ways that thinking about it still makes me tear up and wonder if I really saw everything she had to say or if there's more.

Shark Heart by Emily Habeck

How did a book about a man turning into a shark become a beautiful, bittersweet, hopeful story about how to love someone through chronic illness and the strain of love and resentment held by caretakers? I opened this book expecting a weird, wonderful story and instead I learned so much about the weight we carry when we have no power to help someone we love. Living through chronic illness and caring for someone through it are tragic, beautiful, complicated experiences Habeck articulated perfectly in this book. Habeck shows how different degrees of loss take a toll on people, they all add a new straw to the back of that camel that eventually breaks.

But she also showed us how when its broken, there exists only one choice: stay broken or stand up and go on. At some point, optimism and hope and survival are a choice. We have to look grief and hardship in the face and decide not to let it drown us. Hope is a choice. Habeck illustrates that phenomenally.