I recently put this question to a group of people: what book do people need to read? What's the book you always recommend? The responses were wide and varied, and I guess that wasn't so surprising. But I was a little surprised by the shift away from classics. I expected to be bombarded by period dramas, by Dickens, by those sisters (you know, those ones, yeah them, the Brontes). Instead, a lot of contemporary novels were put forward – everything from Harry Potter to A.M. Homes and Gary Sheingart. Maybe the suggestions are just a sign that my circle of acquaintances is getting older and we're trusting in our own judgment a little more, not leaning on Time magazine's 'Best Ever One Hundred Books You Will Have Read Unless Stupid, Ugly or Poor', or similar. No one mentioned Ulysses or Moby Dick, there were no James Baldwins or Harper Lees suggested out of guilt or a sense of duty. People just put forward the books they liked. And so I figured I'd do the same. There are already enough lists out there of books you simply must read before you die/lose your glasses/eat your breakfast.

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

Because most teenage (and adult) women can see at least a little piece of themselves in Esther Greenwood, or a little piece of Esther in them. Who hasn't felt the pain of life? Of failure? Of brutality? Who hasn't wanted to call an avocado an avocado pear and eat it stuffed with caviar? Who doesn't want a sunglass case studded with seashells? When I was in my late teens and obsessed with this book, my father read it in a bid to understand me. I'm not sure if it helped him understand me or not, but I'm pretty sure it made him worry.

Hotel New Hampshire by John Irving

There is a cutout newspaper photo of John Irving above my desk. It's from years ago – he still looks pretty young and has an almost David Lynchian-quiff. He watches over me and cringes at absolutely everything I write. This included. Irving is like a box of chocolates – you just want to put it all in your head at once. Hotel New Hampshire is a great place to start - like most of his books, it is wonderful escapist fiction. It's long and winding but it never feels lost or lagging. The characters are odd and you'd wonder how or why he introduced them if you weren't so caught up in their stories. And, if you need another reason to read this book, the taxidermied dog, Sorrow, floating off in the ocean is a pretty good one.

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers

This is a book that will eat you alive. It will break your heart. It centres around a deaf protagonist, John Singer, and four of his acquaintances. Mick, the young tomboy, was probably my favourite. Possibly just because she reminded me of my sister (the version of my sister who is cool and not the more common version who is both annoying and cruel). Nothing I write will do the book justice. Just beware – you'll probably cry, so read it in private

East of Eden and The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck

In fact, read any Steinbeck. I know, I know, I was hesitant too. The covers make them look like a cross between dry school list literature and The Beverly Hillbillies. But they're not. While the landscapes are dry and the characters' pockets are usually empty, the plots are full to brimming with the most wonderful down 'n' out characters. You will want to make coffee over an open fire and eat oranges while reading Steinbeck. You may not, however, wish to be a poor landless farmer in the Dust Bowl during the Great Depression.

I'm nervous. The final choice is always the hardest. This is my last chance to tell you what I love. I can't even remember what books I love. All those hours spent reading and everything's blurring into 65gsm creamy stock with lines and lines of black scribble across it. I should say A Farewell to Arms by Hemingway or maybe My Family and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell, I could say a Delillo, Kingsley Amis, Paul Bowles or the Rabbit series by Updike, or Richard Ford or maybe even Clive Barker's Books of Blood for straight up gore, or, far out, I'm sure I read some female authors. I hope I do. Do I? Oh my god, they're all white males in number five. I'm my own worst nightmare. I'm going to say The Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles, but I'm not convinced. I can't decide. I have never been very good at this game.