I've been thinking about books lately. I guess it's not surprising!

I've always had trouble picking a favorite movie, but I've never had trouble pinpointing which books are my favorites, and that's because there's a simple test: If I truly love a book, I re-read it. Many times.

In fact, I often re-read them every couple of years, or sometimes I'll even re-read favorite passages from them. (Yes, I was the girl in the corner in the library. Every weekend.)

Given the amazing response to thelinster's post What book got you hooked? last summer, I'm guessing that many of you might be just as bookish as I am. So I thought I'd share a few of the books that made deep, lifelong impressions on me. They shaped me as a human being and as a writer, and every time I read one of them, I feel like I've come home.

A Ring of Endless Light by Madeleine L'Engle
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L'Engle's Wrinkle in Time is more famous, but A Ring of Endless Light will always win out for me.

Saturday on HBO, Susan Sarandon and Ralph Fiennes star in Bernard and Doris, the story of multimillionaire Doris Duke and her gay butler/confidant. It sounds great in theory, but the trailers kind of put me off — is this the Sarandon we know and love? It doesn't even seem like the Rocky Horror–era campy version of her, because of course that's definitely the Sarandon I know and love. It's a new scenery-chewing version, I think.

Holland Taylor attended the premiere — and in multimillionaire style:

If you prefer a more literate brand of drama, check your local PBS schedule for Masterpiece. The Jane Austen marathon continues, this time with the 1995 miniseries adaptation of Pride and Prejudice.

And, of course, the Grammy Awards are Sunday, with Winehouse via satellite!

There’s an important experience that straight women and gay women have in common — and no, I don’t mean lusting after Angelina Jolie. Falling in love with literary heroines seems to me like something that transcends sexuality, mostly because it isn’t really about sex. The best literary heroines are a mixture of what you can identify with — what you’ve felt and experienced — and what you’d like to be. They are usually smart, strong and not the most beautiful girls in the room; yet somehow they have a charm that puts the most beautiful girls in the shade. Sometimes they don’t even have that outward charm, but because of the internal focus of novels, the reader can still see, and love, their integrity and wit.

Growing up, I liked reading about Jo March in Little Women and Laura Ingalls Wilder in the Little House books. I loved Sara Crewe from A Little Princess and Matilda from the Roald Dahl story. There was Emily Byrd Starr from Anne of Green Gables author L. M. Montgomery’s lesser-known Emily books, and the strange, moody Fuchsia Groan from Mervyn Peake’s Gormenghast trilogy. There was shy, secretive, angry Beth Ellen from lesbian Harriet the Spy author Louise Fitzhugh’s The Long Secret.

Here are my 5 favorite literary heroines as a grownup:

1. Elizabeth Bennet from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (1813)

Jane Austen wrote of her Lizzy that “I must confess that I think her as delightful a creature as ever appeared in print,” and she will hear no disagreement from me. As well as reading the book, I’ve also watched three “lively and determined” Elizabeths play out the drama on screen: Greer Garson in 1940, Jennifer Ehle in 1995, and Keira Knightley in 2005.

While I like Keira Knightley, I have to say that her performance was lacking something crucial that the two others conveyed to me: Elizabeth’s maturity, her full understanding even at a young age of how degrading it would be to have an unequal marriage like her parents’. Over the course of the book, Elizabeth discovers that her strong moral judgments are not always right: She is mistaken about Mr. Wickham, mistaken about Mr. Darcy. But she still has an intelligence and strength of character that sets her apart from all other heroines for me — and I can never get enough of her telling off Lady Catherine. … continue reading

Scully is hosting the venerable PBS series Masterpiece Theatre? Someone call Mulder; there has to be paranormal activity at work here. Gillian Anderson has signed on as one of the new hosts for the upcoming season of the newly revamped PBS mainstay. Yes, I said one of the new hosts, because the popular series will now be served three ways: Masterpiece Classic, Masterpiece Mystery! and Masterpiece Contemporary. Gillian will host Masterpiece Classic, which will feature period pieces and run January to May. The other flavors will run summer and fall, respectively. Those hosts will be announced next year.

At first glance, Gillian’s new gig might elicit a “bahwah?” But when given a couple seconds to sink in, it actually makes perfect sense. Gillian is no stranger to the Masterpiece audience. In January 2006, she was nominated for a Golden Globe for her portrayal of Lady Dedlock in the critically acclaimed BBC adaptation of Charles Dickens’ Bleak House. … continue reading

Or at least on Sunday evenings, in the States, for viewers with PBS. But I'll take it! Come January, that revered, pre-A&E bastion of British drama in the U.S., Masterpiece Theatre, is hosting a four-month Austen marathon, replete with adaptations of all six major novels and a new biographical drama, Miss Austen Regrets. Dorothy Snarker wasn't kidding when she said it's Jane's world now.

First, the good news: Olivia Williams, aka Miss Cross in the only Wes Anderson film I enjoy, stars as "Miss Austen" herself.

Already so much better than Anne Hathaway (against whom I have nothing, but as Austen? I didn't get it). Greta Scacchi plays Austen's sister Cassandra, and since it took an embarrassing moment for me to realize that Williams and Scacchi are not in fact the same person, I can easily buy them as sisters. I'm also amused by the idea of a scene in which Austen "tipples most liberally" at a party. … continue reading

Jane Austen never goes out of style. The founding mother of chick lit (I say that with love and respect; please don’t throw your dog-eared copies of Pride & Prejudice at me) has become cinema’s go-to wordsmith. Move over, Shakespeare: This is Jane’s world now.

Of course, adapting Austen’s books for the big screen is nothing new. But two upcoming films take it a step further this summer. They are inspired by the very woman herself. Becoming Jane (opening Aug. 10) and The Jane Austen Book Club (opening Sept. 21) both draw inspiration from Austen’s life. And both look, at first glance, pretty intriguing.

Becoming Jane features Anne Hathaway as a 20-year-old Austen at the start of her writing career and a crossroads in her love life. It sounds like, for lack of a better description, classic Austen. And Anne definitely fits the part. Broody writer looks good on her. … continue reading

Here’s a horrifying thought. What if someone wrote two chapters of a novel, purposely using plagiarized sections lifted directly from one of the world’s most recognizable female literary figures? And what if the publisher who had just recently republished the original author's work turned down that new “author”? What if that same publisher told the “new” author that this “new” work of fiction was actually a "really original and interesting read" but not quite what the publisher was looking for? Wonder no more. It happened. For shame. What's more, only one publisher of the many who read the manuscript recognized the work as Jane Austen's. One?

In this day of popped-out popular culture, it’s easy for many not to recognize the classic works of the great literary giants of yesteryear. Of course, not being a great literary mind myself, I’m hard pressed to recognize the theme of Romeo and Juliet in West Side Story. So I pass no judgment on those common folk who would more easily recognize the plagiarized text of Jackie Collins and Barbara Cartland before they’d recognize Jane Austen’s delicate word choices. But a publisher? Yikes. That just hurts. I want to think that some professionals, other than librarians and museum directors, can still act as the custodians of pre-20th-century literature. … continue reading