Not really circular, but something sorta' kinda' similar... Larry Niven's Known Space books. With the exception of the Ringworld books, which are part of Known Space, and which are a series within a series, the rest of the books can be picked up in any order you like. They all take place in the same universe, and if something gets an odd side mention in one book, you can bet there's a book that's just about that happenstance, and that book references other happenstances that all have their own books. Seriously, with the mentioned exception, start anywhere - end anywhere. No pressure.
I love circular stories. A story that ends more or less where it began, but so much has changed. I like that kind of twist so much that I often punch the air when I get to the end. One that comes to mind is the First Law trilogy by Joe Abercrombie. What a way to go!
I like a happy ending, but much prefer an open one; it's kinda weird, but I like to think there's more to the character's life besides what's going on in the story.
If the usual suspects are covered (fleshed out and realistic characters, lifelike dialogue, an intricate storyline that ties up all subplots, consistent POV and correct SPaGs, varied pacing and harnessing of micro/macrotension) I am up for reading anything But I do enjoy morally grey stories that leave me feeling a little bit uncomfortable and make my brain unsure of itself. I like stories to expand my world, and the most efficient way for this to happen is to unsettle me. I also like to read acknowledgements . And the quotes/proverbs/poems some authors put before the story starts, because they are often well chosen and significant.
For some reason, I like generational stories, where the main character in one part becomes the dad or grandad of the main character in another part, Luke.
I like it when the author writes about a character who has a philosophical undertone or thoughtful edge. I mean someone who lives in his or her mind and moralises about their experiences in a new and refreshing way. Spoiler: example One example of this is like Holden in Catcher In The Rye. His thoughts run along with him.. and while on the outside he may seem like a shallow, superficial 16 year old boy - like any other - his actual thoughts are hilarious and, at times, very deep for a boy his age. We really do live in this character’s mind and we’re completely swept away by his thoughts. I’d love to see more characters written about in this way.
To me, the best books are the ones that make me feel intensely while reading them and then after I've finished them. Obviously some subject matter is going to be automatically heartstrings tugging, but if it's not written well, then it just falls flat. Some examples of books that made me feel a lot: A Little Life by Hanya Yanigahara (might have spelled that wrong) Challenger Deep by Neal Schusterman I Am the Messenger by Markus Zusak (I was going to say The Book Thief, but that's an obvious choice. He writes humanity really well) Wenny Has Wings by ... I forget who wrote it at the moment. Life in the Desert by Tres Seymour My list could be longer, but these are just a few that made me feel crumbled inside, and not in a bad way. These stories are all ones that have stuck with me ever since I read them. Some I've read more than once, others I can't because they're too heavy.
I like when the writer provides different ports of entry to a story so the story can be engaged more than once, in different ways, by the same reader. Alice Walker's The Color Purple is either a story about Miss Celie and all the inhabitants of the small town, or it's a story where all the women in the narrative are actually facets of Miss Celie. They are all her in her different modes and ways of being. Masterful and verging on disturbing in the way it asks you to look at yourself and the different selves that comprise you. China Miéville's Embassytown is about humans exploring the universe and coming into contact with very strange creatures, or it's a treatise on language function, language acquisition, and how language is directly tied into the formation of Theory of Mind. There's a woman who is a simile trying to become a metaphor. It's humbling in its deployment. China Miéville's The City and the City is a solid police procedural and noire detective story, or it's a deep exploration into how culture affects what we see around us and what we learn to filter out and unsee. The indictment will leave you looking at your shoes like a child hiding a stolen cookie in his pocket. The Southern Reach novels by Jeff VanderMeer. These are about scientists exploring a strange anomaly taking place somewhere along the Southeast coast of the United States, or it's a story about communication at its most fundamental level, down past words and syntax, phonemes, and memes (not the internet kind, the idea kind) and into that amorphous proto-phase of concept and whatever it is that serves as the material through which an idea is born that then wraps itself in words to travel across rude physical space and attempt to enter another mind. I felt drunk for weeks after reading these books. So effing good. Everything Octavia Butler ever wrote. No matter what she was writing, she was always asking the same fundamental, primordial, original questions: What is this thing I see in the mirror? What does me mean? Does the word human refer to a species lineage or a trait that can be housed in any kind of body? She was divinely curious and I can't not cry knowing she passed so young.
I love it when an author has the restraint to not write a sequel when they shouldn't. When they have the discipline to not continue on with their compelling and memorable protagonist, in the instances when said protagonist already completed their nigh perfect character arc. It's heartbreaking when a sequel diminishes, or in some cases completely invalidates, the five star story and protagonist growth that came before it.
Yeah, that's a biggie, especially these days when writers are encouraged to write more and more sequels ...because they automatically sell. I think a good compromise is what Joe Abercrombie did/does. He sets the stories in the world he originally created, and some of them contain characters from previous stories—but never in the role of protagonist (s.) So there is a connection for those who like that world, but the new stories don't artificially drag the same characters along. There's a little ping of recognition when you realise this is the son, or friend of an old character, but the new characters make their own stories. One of the huge exceptions to this ebbing series thing, is Phillip Pullman's second trilogy, which contains a cracking prequel to His Dark Materials, then carries on with the main character from that series. Frankly I'm on the edge of my seat with it ...and there is still one more book to go. Okay, it might flatline ...but so far, I'm really absorbed by it. In a way, it's even more compelling than the original series, because the protagonist is now an adult. I really enjoy Pullman's writing.
I love intimate portrayals, writing that delves into the history - and therefore psychology - of the characters. I like backstory on the events that influenced and led directly to the events in the story. These are some of the reasons I read Stephen King. Someone once told me they hated his work because it wasn't descriptive or detailed. I was initially confused because he writes some of the most detailed characters and backstories while presenting intricate, detailed stories. It turned out though, that she meant physical descriptions. Apparently there are a lot of people out there who prefer the Dickens-style three-page description of the front of a house to anything actually going on inside that house. I guess I can see that. I understand reading for language, but I read for the story and get hooked on the characters. I want to know what they're feeling and why they're feeling it beyond the context of the current situation. I read for story first, characters a close second and everything else a distant third.
Yup, I love things that come full circle. For example, in the current story I'm working on, it will begin with my character waking up, trudging to the bathroom, and stubbing his toe on a moving box that's been there for two years. He has quite a few issues he sorts out, one of which causes him to, for example, not move the box, and at the end, he finally unpacks the box. So it starts with a box, and ends with it.
When an author makes me loath a character, and later makes me forgive them. It’s one of my favorite reading experiences. It’ll never get old.
