A few of these movies have become a little dated or have noticeable flaws—for example, I hate the end of Beyond the Black Rainbow, but would highly recommend it anyway, because the rest of the movie is mesmerizing. But though these films may be imperfect, their thematic intensity and visual brilliance is still there, more than enough to blow you away.

 10. Solaris (1972)

Long before George Clooney’s butt cheeks graced the 2002 remake, this minimalist Russian film based on a novel by Stanislaw Lem had me entranced. Every time I watch this movie about a sentient planet that recreates an astronaut’s deceased wife, I enjoy it even more.

 9. Soylent Green (1973)

Featuring Charlton Heston, overpopulation, and blockbuster plot twists, this movie, loosely based on Harry Harrison’s novel Make Room! Make Room!, is just plain awesome. “Soylent green is people!”

 8. Logan’s Run (1976)

The concept of carousel in this movie set in the 23^rd century made me look at religion—and government—in a new light. Michael York, Farrah Fawcett’s hair, the post-apocalypse—what else can anyone ask for from ‘70s SF?

 7. Westworld (1973)

If you haven’t seen this movie set in a futuristic amusement park for adults (and written and directed by Michael Crichton), you’re just not a hardcore fan of science fiction.

 6. Beyond the Black Rainbow (2010)

One of the most hypnotic movies I’ve ever seen, although I thought the ending was completely wrong.

 5. Stalker (1979)

Another hypnotic flick, this Russian movie will haunt your subconscious weeks after you watch it.

 4. Scanners (1981)

Yeah, everyone remembers the exploding heads, but Scanners is so much more than splatterific gore—this movie, directed by David Cronenberg, is a perfect fusion of science fiction and existential horror.

 3. Altered States (1980)

This trippy exploration into varying states of consciousness is literally jaw-dropping—an undeniable classic.

 2. THX 1138 (1971)

Directed by George Lucas, this stark vision of humankind’s future is both visually spectacular and thematically profound. I love the ending and the fact that it’s so filled with memorable one-liners like “Work hard, increase production, prevent accidents, and be happy.”

1. Fantastic Planet (1973)

I have watched this animated masterpiece (produced in France and Czechoslovakia) dozens of time over the last few decades, and every single time I’ve been blown away. If you haven’t seen this movie yet, watch it as soon as possible!

Have you seen any/most of/all of the movies on Paul’s list?

So how does she write a cookbook with all these restrictions?

She cheats a bit. The recipes do include some of the banned ingredients, like meat and fish. Gwyneth also casually mentions that sometimes she lets “a little bit of gluten slide,” which is alarming for people allergic to gluten, since a little slip could make them seriously sick. But hey, it’s all good!

I appreciate Gwyneth’s commitment to healthy food. I like eating healthy! So I tested out some of the recipes for you. I made them for myself and my boyfriend. While he’d be happy eating chicken wings and beer every day (making him a really good test subject for my experiment), he does like to eat healthfully, too. But neither of us would last very long on the elimination diet. We wanted to see if we could do it for just one dinner.

I decided to try Super-Healthy Kosheri, Mostly-Mushroom Soup, and for “dessert,” Nori Sesame Crunch.

Looking at the food before we sat down to dine made me sad. The dishes were completely colorless. I would have loved to add some pops of colorful vegetables, at least. But rules are rules. Is the food supposed to look like this? I wondered. Did I do something wrong? I was worried I’d made a meal of orphanage gruel.

But for the most part, the food was not that bad. The Many-Mushroom soup was inoffensive, and you’ll enjoy it if you loooove you some mushrooms. After one bite, though, my boyfriend and I had to slather on hot sauce and add salt. Next time I would thicken it up with beans or tofu. The pictures I have seen in magazines and online of the Mostly Mushroom Soup do not resemble my Mostly Mushroom Soup. I think that’s because the GOOP team uses pictures of the dried mushrooms soaking in broth, and not the actual soup. Because the actual soup looks like my cat’s dinner.

Many-Mushroom Soup

The Kosheri was disappointing. It needed another texture. I found it hard to believe I’d followed an actual recipe in an actual cookbook to make what was sitting on my plate in front of me—it was incredibly mushy and way too cinnamon-y. I hardly ever leave food on my plate, but I left food on my plate and went to the fridge for some of last night’s leftovers, and they sure were delicious. I would make this again, if only to change every single thing in the recipe. Add eggplant, cheese, take out quinoa, use pasta. I guess we’re not eating Kosheri anymore. Already, I had almost halved the amount of quinoa and added extra lentils and onions, but it still just tasted like a big heap of quinoa.

Kosheri

I was initially unexcited about making Nori Sesame Crunch. I think if you’re going to eat a dessert, you should eat a dessert. Baked Nori sheets don’t seem like too much of an indulgence. Top Chef’s Carla Hall (and my great-grandmother) used to say that if you don’t cook with love, it’s apparent in the final product. So maybe the Nori Sesame Crunch was disastrous because it could sense I was at odds with it. It came out angry the first time I tried it. Obviously it’s because I didn’t use parchment paper. When Gwyneth Paltrow says to use parchment paper, she means it. So I tried again.

Nori Sesame Sheets

“This is actually kind of good,” my boyfriend said as he crunched on the baked Nori sheets. I eyed them like they were my number one arch nemesis. But I was pleasantly surprise: the sesame seeds make them pretty satisfying, and I liked the saltiness of the Nori. We ate them all up. I wouldn’t consider them dessert, but I’d make them again–probably with a little sprinkle of cayenne.

Basically this food was fine, but it all seemed to have something missing. I wouldn’t cook it for guests, I wouldn’t cook more than one recipe per meal, and the recipes probably won’t make it into my regular repertoire. When I’m cooking, I like to cook meals that knock my socks off and make me happy to prepare and eat. I didn’t have that feeling here. Cooking, I felt wary. And eating, I felt underwhelmed. And though the meal certainly wasn’t flavorless, we were a few glasses of wine in.

Do these recipes appeal to you?

Creating a place where you can read, eat, drink, write, and nap in total comfort and safety is not as easy as it sounds. A library must inspire and incubate. It should be an escape for the body and mind. If I could build the perfect library, it would include:

Books: Right? I mean, tell me if you think that’s too tradish, but I feel I’d want, like, a lot of books. Tons of nonfiction and and then a whole section for the classics. Also a section for all of my favorite kids’ books—old favorites whose covers give me a rush of something lost and exciting. A bunch of Bill Peet and maybe some Maniac Magee and BFG.

Window seats: Crucial. Ideally, the library will be on the second floor of my giant house, and when I look up from reading The Gospel According to Jesus Christ, by José Saramago, I’ll feel like I’m in the trees, and the message of the book will really hit home. It’s just better to feel up high when reading, and not grounded. No heavy curtains—I’ll make sure light can always blast in and illuminate the book titles.

Blankets: On everything. So many soft, huge blankets. And rugs on rugs on rugs. No cold feet in my library.

Desk: The kind with little compartments and a leather writing surface and maybe a quill and some ink. This desk will face a window, but also be strategically placed so that I can see the entire room, especially the fireplace and the sheepskin rugs. This placement is crucial; I don’t want anyone to sneak up and murder me while I’m secretly changing my will, leaving everything I own to my “housekeeper.”

What else do I need? A lot of plants, probably—keep that air circulation flowing. And maybe a wine fridge. I’m really excited about this. You guys are free to come and read in silence with me. We’ll have a blast.

What’s your dream library like?

TheSeaMan

My self-summary

I am a man of war.

What I’m doing with my life

I am a writer and former journalist. I have a nice house here, and my kids are well.

I’m pretty good at

Compressing emotion. Composing four-to-six word sentences. Fishing, hunting, and camping. Surviving plane and car crashes. Describing death in nature.

The first thing people usually notice about me

The scar on my forehead. It is a war injury. Do not ask me about it.

The six things I could never do without

Alcoholic sprees.

The kangaroo tendon that my surgeon used to bind my broken bones after a car accident.

A true understanding of human mortality.

Six-toed cats.

My unwavering valor.

Facial hair of some form.

I spend a lot of time thinking about

The current state of the Cuban government, my inevitable death, cats.

On a typical Friday night I am

With my mistress. That is, my mistress the dry martini. It’s a metaphor. . .

The most private thing I’m willing to admit

That scar I mentioned earlier. . . I got it from forcibly pulling a light fixture chain that I thought was a toilet chain. The fixture fell on my forehead, cutting me badly. It is my biggest regret in life.

I’m looking for

A muse I can look at from across a cafe. I may also caress you. I prefer older women with a nurturing instinct. I will also place higher priority on those who live near lighthouses. Their light provides me a beacon home after long nights of drinking. Also, someone who is not startled by my proposal of marriage on our third meeting.

You should message me if

You think this story is romantic.

Once an old fisherman hooked a pair of marlin. The male fish always lets the female fish feed first. When the fisherman hooked the female fish, she fought a wild, panic-stricken, despairing fight that soon exhausted her. All the time the male stayed with her, crossing the line and circling with her on the surface. After the old man gaffed her and clubbed her until her colour turned to a colour like the backing of mirrors, the male fish stayed by the side of the boat. As the old man was preparing the harpoon, the male fish jumped high into the air beside the boat to see where the female was, and then went down into the water, deep.

Would you message Ernest Hemingway?

As someone who has visited many libraries, how can you sense you’re in a good one?

“Good one” is an interesting term applied to this project. One person once said to me, “Wouldn’t it be a dream project to be able to do something with the Library of Congress?” I thought, you know, at a certain point the collections of books that try to cover everything are not ideal for this project. I’m more interested in collections where there’s focus, where the interests of private individuals pool up around certain kinds of things. That’s why I’ve been fond of working in specialized book collections, like the project I did in Delaware last year, where the books were collected on the basis of their covers and they were from a very particular time period. What makes a good collection is one where you can really sense a person’s particular concentrated areas and interests, and what those things are and how they collide with and even contradict each other.

I was struck when I saw your sorting from the Athenaeum Arts and Music Library in La Jolla. To me, the fonts, colors, and titles of the books embody the gauze-clad beachgoer who displays decorative seashells in her bathroom. Demographically, what differences have you noticed in collections?

The Athenaeum in San Diego is a funny kind of library because it’s private, which means that you have to be a member to use it. I don’t know that I could say it represents San Diegans. But it was a particular slice of La Jolla. There was a kind of a loveliness to the feeling of that building and the feeling of the books in that library. I think I’d need to do many many more to make demographic claims. But when I’ve sorted an individual’s library, it shows up in their books in ways that are pretty consistently quite different and interesting for me to work with.

Can you peg a person’s personality by what’s on their shelf?

To some degree, the same way all of us have probably been the nosey party guest and looked over someone’s CD collection or someone’s book collection, tried to figure out what that person’s like based on what that person’s reading. When I am in someone’s home, the first pass through their books might give me a pretty good sense of what they’re consistently interested in. What I really like is finding these books where I think How odd that they would also be reading about this thing.

It’s very personal, looking at people’s books. There have certainly been people who are less comfortable with it. When I was in residency in Sweden in 2004, I approached a number of different contemporary writers with the help of the institution that was sponsoring me. I wasn’t even a rogue artist writing to them, but consistently, people came back with the reply that “My books are very personal and I’m not comfortable with having someone work with them.” Ironically, where that all went in the end is me getting permission to work with one of Sweden’s most absolute famous writers of all time, August Strindberg, who is long deceased. So I got to work with not a famous contemporary Swedish writer, but a very very famous dead Swedish writer. He turned out to be a very complicated, interesting man, curious about so many things. His books were a fantastic range of wildly different topics, from literature to the occult to travel to alchemy.

Do you write non-book spine poetry?

This is kind of my writing project. It’s sort of like a strange puzzle you’re trying to solve again and again. This sounds new age-y and mystical but there’s an eerie feeling you have when a cluster almost writes itself. I’ve really never written poetry. Sorting is like writing lyrics or writing a poem, but having props to do it with, and having the very useful constraints of language that are already out there to work from. Within those constraints I have to find a freedom to find something else. I’m ultimately limited by the size of the library, and the books that are there, and the language that’s already on the spine. Then the question is like, OK, what can be done with this stuff? I will have two amazing tiles lined up and all I need is to find that third fantastic one that will complete it. Sometimes it just doesn’t happen. I’m tempted to go and order a bunch of books online to finish the sentence but I’ve never cheated. It would be terribly against my own rules to do so.

An artist named Meriç Algün Ringborg recently held an exhibition called “The Library of Unborrowed Books,” in which she displays books that have never been checked out of libraries. Some of the titles were surprising to me—Don DeLillo’s Running Dog, for instance. Are you ever surprised by which books seem worn and which books seem untouched in a library?

I’m often trying to think about the physical properties of the books, titles aside. Their physicality carries a kind of information too. In the Strindberg library, he treated his books very very roughly. During a famous exchange he had with his brother when he was arranging to have the books shipped he said, “Just tear the covers off if they’re too heavy.” The way that people handle their books sometimes mirrors the way a kid handles a stuffed animal. It’s kind of been loved into a state of disintegration. Then there’s sometimes books where you’re like, Wow, it’s pristine, and the person has probably bought this, perhaps with the intention of reading it, or they just want to have it in case. I certainly own some books in that category.

My mom once gave me a copy of the Joy of Cooking, and she was like, “Just leave it out when you have a date over.”

[Laughs] I was going to bring up cookbooks. There was a book collection I was working in that lead to the book sorting called Sorting Shark. The husband and wife, editors of this journal called Shark, were very avid readers. She’s an artist. He’s an English professor and a poet. She’s also a really incredible cook. There were a lot of cookbooks in their library, and I loved how the cookbooks would sometimes be splattered on, and you could really kind of see a certain use there.

As opposed to say the diet books, which are probably completely untouched.

The very first sorting ever there was a lot of self-help in that collection and that can sometimes be kind of pointed too—a book that has clearly been about a difficult subject for somebody. You get the sense that that book has been read, or there are notes in the margins. Things you don’t see in my photographs. It’s a tough project to do without getting sucked into reading. Many many times I’ve been working on this and I’ll suddenly be like, Oh sh*t, I just stood there reading for 20 minutes, I can’t read everything I pick up or I’ll never get out of here.

Now that you have your own book, have you imaged how you might sort it if you found it in someone’s library?

I will one day have to use my book in a book cluster. I’m sure this will happen. But I don’t know how yet. I’ve never worked with any book collections truly close to home. I guess I’ve been interested in using it as a vehicle to come to know a stranger, or come to know a collection that’s foreign to me.

That said, sometimes I’ve stayed over at people’s houses, and as a little sort of funny thing for them to find, I’ve taken a few of their books and written a little sentence and left it behind. They are usually inside jokes. It’s fun to leave these little signatures behind.

Change your scenery: Sick of writing at the same desk in your tiny, cramped apartment? We don’t blame you—and yes, it’s kind of starting to smell in there. Try getting out the house and working from a coffee shop. Perhaps you won’t find the colorful clientele a distraction; in fact, they may be a source of inspiration. Hey, that handsome guy with the sleeve tattoos and awesome jawline is just begging to be put on your pages, or in between your sheets. Whatever, same thing!

Study others: Whether you’re in a café with your computer or on an afternoon stroll without a pen or a scrap of paper on you, really pay attention to everything around you. Practice your expository skills by creating vivid descriptions of the people and places you see. If nothing else, writers should be superb observationalists with the ability to convey sights, smells, and feelings to readers. Perhaps there’s a story in the tattoo guy, or the tall woman reaching for quinoa at Trader Joe’s. Or maybe there’s a great place in your everyday life that’s just waiting for you to employ it as a scene location in your novel. Take a look around!

Re-evaluate your timing: When you’re balancing a paying job, relationships, and other responsibilities, it can be challenging to find the time to write. Many writers sit down at the same time each day. Some strive to meet a certain daily word count goal. If you’re in a similar routine and it’s starting to feel stale, try swapping things around. If you tend to write at night, try waking up early one morning, and see if it gives you a jolt of energy.

Organize a workshop: A supportive community of like-minded individuals is essential to the creative process. If you don’t already have a built-in clique of writer friends, and you’re feeling brave, try posting an ad on Craigslist and see what comes of it. You can also seek out new connections in a local writing class. This is an excellent way to create that fresh “back to school” mentality and meet new people. When the class is over (and your wallet is empty), you can keep the class going informally by meeting your favorite classmates at each other’s houses and apartments. If you’re not ready for that step, keep an eye out for the writer type everywhere you go—who knows, maybe the next girl you share a martini with is a closet short story writer!

Keep reading: Surrounding yourself with greatness and great writing certainly won’t hurt your situation. Sometimes a truly amazing author can lead you down the path of amateur imitation. If her influence is apparent in your new work, just go with it. Instead of worrying about this little private plagiarism on your personal laptop, see where it leads you. You will have to go back and tear it up when you edit, anyway.

Be a part of the scene: If you live in a big city, you have the extra benefit of being able to network with writers. Attend readings, whether by big names at your nearby Barnes & Noble, or a group of local authors staging something at a bar. It’s important to surround yourself by working writers and grand storytellers. These meetings feed our little souls, and make us feel more optimistic about writing, the process, and the end product. If you have the opportunity to read at an event, never pass it up no matter what your nerves think! Remember, the opportunities are endless, even though it doesn’t always feel that way.

How do you beat the block? We want to know the ways you cope when your brain is shutting down! Please feel free to share your tips and tricks with fellow floundering writers.

Some people may disagree with me, but I think exposing your children to horror-nuanced children’s literature at an early age is a positive thing. And here’s why…

1. First and foremost, it gets children interested—exhilarated—about reading. I remember that as a kid, I was fascinated by any book that dealt with monsters or ghosts or anything weird. It was literally thrilling to open up and experience some of these books. There was a sense that I was pushing the boundaries, exploring new territory, doing something that bordered on naughty… it was a little scary and a lot of fun! If your child gravitates towards dark storylines, I’m all for nurturing that love of reading in any way possible.

2. By exploring (albeit superficially) the dark side of humanity and the nature of fear, kids learn more about themselves (their strengths and weaknesses, etc.) and hopefully become more empowered because of it. In Charles Gilman’s excellent Tales from Lovecraft Middle School saga (Professor Gargoyle, The Slither Sisters, and the upcoming Teacher’s Pest), unlikely hero Robert Arthur is an introverted 12-year-old who, through his own ingenuity and a little help from his friends, overcomes all kinds of otherworldly monstrosities.

Heroes come in all shapes and sizes.

3. There are life lessons to be learned. Don’t invite a vampire into your house. Don’t take that shortcut through the cemetery. Staying out late and not telling your parents where you are can be dangerous. Walking into a forested area at night looking for a wayward pet is a bad idea. Don’t take candy from strangers.

Reading horror-infused stories from an early age gave me a healthy dose of paranoia—not a bad thing, if you ask me!

4. These stories create a broader knowledge of literature and its history. When I first read A Vampire is Coming to Dinner to my girls, they asked: “where do vampires come from?” After a much too lengthy explanation, they now know that vampires are fictional creations. They also know all about vampires in literature (Carmila, Dracula, Bunnicula, etc.) and pop culture (Count von Count, Count Chocula).

Just look at Gilman’s Slither Sisters. In it, he introduces kids to H. P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu, although on a much smaller scale:

“The creature was no bigger than a thumb. Its body had the slimy green scales of a dragon. It had two long flippers for arms but walked on two legs, like a miniature person… The creature had tiny eyes and nostrils, but its mouth was hidden by a dozen mini tentacles that hung from the bottom of its face like party streamers.”

5. Ultimately, reading these kinds of stories is reassuring. The creepy stuff is fiction; it’s in the book and not a part of our everyday lives. Once we have indulged in our dalliance with darkness, we put the book—and the fictional terror—away. After reading about a kid who travels into another shadowy dimension and has to battle his way through all kinds of nasty creepy crawlies in order to get home, having to brush your teeth before bedtime isn’t really that bad, is it?

Do you read scary stories to your kids?

Editor’s note: Joel is reading his way through the finalists for the 2012 Nebula Award for best sci-fi/fantasy novel. Read his introduction here.

The mainstream success of Game of Thrones aside, it’s easy to see why many readers might find reading fantasy embarrassing and/or intimidating: not only do the books have silly covers and often silly names (my wife likes to read them off in a silly voice—even George R.R. Martin is not immune, though I suppose A Storm of Swords is kind of over-the-top), every single one of them seems to be 600 pages. But wait, there’s more—it’s also book one in a projected series. So in that regard, Saladin Ahmed’s Throne of the Crescent Moon is award-worthy in my book just for bucking the trend and managing to tell a complete story in under 300 pages. Even better: after finishing it, I’m actually hoping for a sequel.

Partly it’s because Ahmed manages to avoid the other trend in fantasy writing, one far more ubiquitous than series bloat: the quasi-European setting, with kings and princes pitting their knights against one another, an endless parade of nobles fighting for the throne. Not to say those books can’t be good or different. There are just a lot of them. Throne of the Crescent Moon is an entirely different animal, with a setting rich with the flavors of Middle Eastern culture and religion, and nary a noble lord in sight. The characters are also decidedly refreshing and unconventional. When did you last read a fantasy novel starring a fat old man so worn out by years of monster hunting that he’d rather stay at home and enjoy his private library? (Note: this is pretty much the role I would take in the same situation, and I am not yet fat or old. Or a monster hunter, come to think of it.)

Adoulla is said fat old man. He can’t seem to retire from the demon-hunting game even though it is destroying his body and his chances for happiness with the local brothel owner. His apprentice Raseed, a devoutly religious, highly-skilled dervish (think ninja), pursues their calling with more fervor, but seems to spend most of his time being offended by his master’s swearing, womanizing, and laziness. The two are somewhat unwittingly drawn into a plot that comes to involve Zamia, a young shapeshifter girl bent on vengeance for the deaths of her family at the hands claws of monsters, a dashing Robin Hood figure known as the Falcon Prince, and the tyrant ruler of the Crescent Moon Kingdom. Oh, and some more middle-aged friends of Adoulla’s.

It really is interesting to read an adventure story in which the most compelling characters are all pushing retirement age. Adoulla, and his struggle with his choices, his calling, and his faith, is far more interesting than the headstrong Raseed, whose moral superiority is predictably challenged when he finds himself falling for Zamia (eye roll). The novel also impresses with its blending of magic and religion (spells generally involve merely invoking the name of God), another element that sets it apart.

Perhaps the most distinguished characteristic is Ahmed’s prose. Though the story is tried and true adventure stuff, with a plot that takes a while to get going and a journey that offers few surprises along the way, it is genuinely a pleasure to read, filled with delicate descriptions, subtle world-building, unexpected humor, and wonderful character moments. And, you know, bloody mayhem and monsters.

Why was it nominated? Simply put, in a market glutted with “grimdark” Game of Thrones wannabes, Throne of the Crescent Moon is something different, a nod to the sword & sorcery tradition that also feels contemporary, with a rich, lived-in setting inhabited by fully dimensional characters.

Does it have a shot at the Nebula? This is the first of the nominees I’ve reviewed that I genuinely believe is a contender for the prize. Though this is his first novel, Saladin Ahmed has already picked up awards recognition for his short stories, including a Nebula nomination in 2010. He was also a finalist for the John W. Campbell Award for best new writer that same year. Moreover, there’s a lot of love out there for the book itself, as witnessed by its inclusion on the shortlist for the 2013 Hugo Award for best novel.

Similarly, literature’s great characters rely on their authors to endow them with monikers that will stand the test of time, enhance their stature, or reflect their essence. 60 years ago this month, one of literature and pop culture’s iconic characters—James Bond—was given life by Ian Fleming in the first 007 outing, Casino Royale. It is in this debut that the secret agent first identifies himself as “Bond… James Bond,” an introduction right up there with “Call me Ishmael” in the annals of memorable literary how-do-you-do’s. However, a 1952 early manuscript released to mark the book’s anniversary reveals that Fleming came close to dubbing 007 “Secretan… James Secretan,” possibly after a 19^th Century Swiss philosopher he was fond of.

Luckily for us and for the Connerys, Craigs, Brosnans and Moores, et al. who have had to introduce themselves on screen, Fleming scratched out “Secretan” on the manuscript and wrote “Bond” in its place. We should be equally glad that Fleming didn’t go with these other possibilities for 007:

1. James Dean: When the brooding film icon hit it big with Rebel Without a Cause, the convergence of teen angst and international espionage would have been a disaster—though it would have been fun to hear Dean scream “You’re tearing me apart!” while being tortured by Goldfinger.

2. James Martinisbabesandguns: Fleming probably discarded this name as just a bit too on the nose.

3. James Mortgage-Backed Securities:  It was between this and Bond when Fleming looked to his investment portfolio for inspiration.

4. Agent 7-11: Fleming ultimately went with 007 instead of with this code name, which came to him as he returned from picking up a pack of smokes and a grape Slurpee.

5. James Heinrich Aloysius Gügler: Again with the Swiss philosophers.

6. Jason Bourne: Convinced that it could never be the basis of a successful series of spy novels and blockbuster movie adaptations, Fleming sold the rights to this name to Robert Ludlum for a bottle of Hungarian vodka and a ride home.

Speaking of vodka, Fleming also made a good call when, at the last minute, he changed Bond’s original drink of choice (“Sex On The Beach, shaken, not stirred”).

Fiction Winner: The Orphan Master’s Son by Adam Johnson

Johnson’s novel follows Pak Jun Do, a North Korean boy who considers himself “a humble citizen of the greatest nation in the world.” With his mother gone and his father running a work camp for orphans, Jun Do is haunted by the conditions around him even as he excels in them. This is Johnson’s third book of fiction, and it has wowed critics worldwide since it was published last August. Our one complaint? It continues a weird trend of books whose title specifies a character’s relationship to a close relative. We’ve recently seen The Time Traveler’s Wife, The Memory Keeper’s Daughter, The Shoemaker’s Wife, and now The Orphan Master’s Son. What’s next? The Astronaut’s Uncle? The Bank Teller’s Second-Cousin-Once-Removed? Let it be known, all ye authors, we declare this trend of referential titles to be over.

History Winner: Embers of War: The Fall of an Empire and the Making of America’s Vietnam by Fredrik Logevall

This is a very weighty book about the Vietnam War, rife with new information from recently declassified diplomatic records. Logevall digs deep into the contextual history of the war, beginning the story in 1919 with the Versailles Peace Conference. If you’re interested in military history, Logevall’s book is a must-read, though we admit it’s not the type of book we’d bring to the beach.

Biography Winner: The Black Count: Glory, Revolution, Betrayal, and The Real Count of Monte Cristo by Tom Reiss

What? What? There was a real life Count of Monte Cristo?! Reiss’s exciting biography of Alex Dumas practically broke our brains with its awesomeness. First things first: if you have never read The Count of Monte Cristo, get on that pronto. It’s only the best revenge adventure ever written. Once that’s done, your brain will also be busted over the fact that Alexandre Dumas based his iconic character on his father, Alex. Born to a Haitian slave, Dumas Sr. rose to high standing in French aristocracy despite the naked racism of the period. He became an expert sword-fighter and military commander, adventuring across the world until he was stopped in his tracks by his arch-nemesis. Talk about a triple helping of epic!

Poetry Winner: Stag’s Leap by Sharon Olds

These poems were written in the wake of a divorce, but they show incredible hope and resilience. Perhaps the old adage that we never know how strong we are until life barfs all over us is true (pretty sure that’s exactly how the quote goes). Olds reflects on the many tolls her divorce took, as well as the many new freedoms it ushered in. Consider this heartbreaker: “Maybe I’m half over who he/was, but not who I thought he was, and not/over the wound, sudden deathblow/as if out of nowhere.”

General Nonfiction Winner: Devil in The Grove: Thurgood Marshall, the Groveland Boys, and the Dawn of a New America by Gilbert King

King tells the incredible story of the “Groveland Four,” four black men accused of raping a white woman in July 1949. It was an ugly episode in American history, resulting in the murder of three of the Groveland Four, even though there was no evidence linking them to the crime and their trial included patently false testimonies. In the middle of the fray, lawyer Thurgood Marshall took a stand against the pure bigotry that had bled into the legal system. Devil in the Grove tells the story in full, delving into the case with the dark flair of a Southern Gothic.

What do you think of the winners? What book do you want to see win a Pulitzer?