My earliest reading memory
I was six, and in the lounge in my first home in Manchester. I was sitting cross-legged on the grey carpet, in 1977, when I finished reading whichever of Enid Blyton’s brilliant Secret Seven mysteries contains the mind-blowing (genuinely, for a six-year-old) twist that “Emma Lane” turns out to be a road and not a person.
My favourite book growing up
Up to the age of 12, Blyton’s Secret Seven and Five Find-Outers mysteries; from 12 onwards, it was Agatha Christie. Growing up, I was certain that no other kind of story could ever hope to be as satisfying as the very best mystery story.
The book that changed me as a teenager
When I was 15, my father suggested, forcefully, that I ought to read, as well as the mystery books I loved, other books that were more serious. I found a harrowing memoir in Didsbury library by the actor Frances Farmer, called Will There Really Be a Morning?, about being forcibly committed to an asylum and kept there for years against her will. Her story of how she struggled to survive and make sense of her horrendous experiences was truly inspiring and unforgettable.
The writer who changed my mind
The life coach and self-help writer Brooke Castillo, author of Self Coaching 101 and It Was Always Meant to Happen That Way. I had no idea that my thoughts about facts were a very different thing from the facts themselves, or that we can choose to tell whatever story we want to, and find plausible, about any given set of circumstances.
The book that made me want to be a writer
I remember it vividly: Sisters and Strangers by Helen van Slyke. It’s no accident that the first novel I ever wrote (mercifully unpublished) was called Lovers and Losers.
The book I came back to
Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights. I gave it up three times after finding it too hard-going – now it’s one of my all-time top five novels.
The book I reread
There are two novels – The Black Prince by Iris Murdoch and Coming from Behind by Howard Jacobson – that I reread regularly because I just adore them. They are perfection expressed in fiction. The Jacobson is the funniest book I’ve ever read and makes me weep with laughter, and the Murdoch is her masterpiece – a detective novel wrapped in a bizarre love story. It’s also the best dissection of creative ambition and literary rivalries that I’ve ever read.
The book I could never read again
A Prayer for Owen Meany. For some reason, this breathtaking novel rendered me unable to contemplate reading it again, or reading anything else by John Irving.
The book I discovered later in life
Agatha Christie’s Mary Westmacott novel The Rose and the Yew Tree – every bit as suspenseful as her “Agatha” novels.
The book I am currently reading
The forthcoming Witch Trial by Harriet Tyce – a bold and unpredictable murder mystery that has a vice-like grip. So suspenseful and chilling – in the best possible way.
My comfort read
The Miracle Morning by Hal Elrod. My morning routine is: grab phone, look at to-do list, swear a lot … but I love to dream of a day when I meditate, set intentions and recite affirmations instead, and books like Elrod’s enable me to do just that.
• The Last Death of the Year: A Hercule Poirot mystery by Sophie Hannah is published by HarperCollins. To support the Guardian, buy a copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
