Writing Prompt: List three books that have had an impact on you. Why?
Books are more than just stories; they are maps, mirrors, and keys. Some of them hold up a reflection we are not ready for. Others crack open something inside us that we did not even know needed light. When I think about the books that have changed my life, I am drawn to three very different works—From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E.L. Konigsburg, Good to Great by Jim Collins, and For Whom the Belle Tolls by Jaysea Lynn. Each one entered my life at a different time and served a very different purpose, but all three left fingerprints on my soul. They guided me toward passion, purpose, and a more playful perspective on life’s biggest question: what happens next?
I first read From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler in third grade, and it was like discovering a portal. Up until then, reading had felt like something I had to do. It was a classroom requirement, a chore assigned in 20-minute chunks. But this book—this story of a girl named Claudia who runs away with her younger brother Jamie to live in the Metropolitan Museum of Art—was the first time I remember wanting to read. Not because someone told me to, but because the pages had something I needed.
Claudia was smart, curious, and, perhaps most importantly, she felt misunderstood. That hit me hard as a kid. Like Claudia, I often felt out of place, like I had more questions than answers and no roadmap to follow. Watching her hide in bathroom stalls until the museum guards left, bathe in the museum fountain, and chase the mystery of a statue possibly sculpted by Michelangelo—these things awakened something in me. It was not just about the adventure, although that certainly thrilled me. It was the sense that self-discovery could be an act of rebellion, that curiosity was not a flaw but a compass. This book is where I fell in love with the written word. It was the beginning of my lifelong journey as both a reader and a seeker. Claudia’s determination to matter, to become someone, planted a seed that would eventually bloom into a deep yearning for purpose and identity.
Years later, as an adult navigating the work world and wondering what it meant to not just survive but succeed, I stumbled across Jim Collins’ Good to Great. I had read business books before—some motivational, others managerial—but this one felt different. It was not just about building a better company; it was about building a better self. The core idea that “good is the enemy of great” was a lightning bolt. It forced me to reconsider the comfort zones I had settled into and made me interrogate what I was actually striving for.
The book lays out, in clear and accessible terms, what separates companies that make a lasting leap into greatness from those that remain mediocre. But what struck me most were the principles that applied far beyond the boardroom. The concept of the “Hedgehog Principle”—knowing what you are deeply passionate about, what you can be the best in the world at, and what drives your economic engine—translated perfectly into a life philosophy. I began to see my choices through this lens. Was I playing to my strengths? Was I operating out of passion or obligation? Was I measuring success by metrics that mattered to me, or by someone else’s standards? This book gave me a new framework for decision-making. It gave me permission to dream big while also demanding that I do the hard work to make that dream real. It was the first time I fully understood that excellence is not an accident; it is a commitment.
If Mixed-Up Files taught me to dream and Good to Great taught me to build, then For Whom the Belle Tolls by Jaysea Lynn reminded me not to take it all too seriously. This novel, a whimsical and cheeky take on the afterlife, came into my life at a time when I desperately needed to laugh—especially about things we are usually told to fear. Death, the great unknown, often looms as a final judgment. But in Lynn’s world, the afterlife is equal parts bureaucratic mess and divine comedy. There are spirit guides with attitude, awkward first meetings with your former self, and unexpected second chances.
This book did something I had never seen done so well before: it made the afterlife feel human. It gave space for irreverence, humor, and hope in a realm usually reserved for either solemn theology or horror. It made me rethink what it means to “live well” if the end is not quite the end. It also invited me to think of death less as a cliff and more as a curve—a continuation of the human experience, albeit with more ghostly paperwork.
More importantly, For Whom the Belle Tolls gave me permission to play with questions of legacy and spiritual identity without needing to commit to dogma. It was the first book in a long time that genuinely surprised me with its tone, its characters, and its world-building. And in doing so, it helped me rediscover a childlike wonder—the same kind that Mixed-Up Files first awakened in me years ago. This was not a book that changed my mind; it changed my mood. And sometimes, that shift is just as powerful.
These three books could not be more different. One is a children’s classic, one is a business bible, and one is a playful paranormal novel. Yet all three shaped me in essential ways. From the Mixed-Up Files taught me that identity and curiosity are powerful fuel. Good to Great taught me that greatness is a choice—one built on discipline, clarity, and honest self-assessment. For Whom the Belle Tolls taught me that even the biggest questions, like what happens after we die, deserve a little humor and imagination.
Together, they represent a kind of trinity in my personal growth: the spark, the structure, and the surrender. They remind me that life is not about choosing between adventure and ambition or between faith and fun. It is about finding a way to weave all those threads together into a story worth telling. A story, maybe, that someone else will one day read—and feel changed by too.
