You know how everyone has that one Ultimate Book Bucket List of 100 books to read before you die? Yeah. I’ve seen about 47 versions of it. Oprah’s got one. Reese Witherspoon’s got one. My best friend Melissa has a very chaotic Google Doc with highlighted “must reads” that includes Eat, Pray, Love and, weirdly, The Very Hungry Caterpillar. (I didn’t question it. We all grieve differently.)
Anyway—here’s my thing. I’ve always been that person who buys books like they’re groceries. A quick “Oh I’ll just pop into Barnes & Noble” somehow turns into me hauling out a tote bag so heavy my car leans a little to the left. But reading them? Actually finishing them? … Let’s just say my nightstand is basically a graveyard of half-read novels.
Still, I keep circling back to the idea of a “before you die” list. Morbid? A little. Motivating? Weirdly yes. So, I thought, okay—if I can’t commit to CrossFit or a skincare routine, maybe I can at least chip away at this stack of world-famous, life-changing, tear-jerking, possibly soul-altering books.
Spoiler: I’m not even halfway through. But that’s the charm, right?
Why Book Bucket Lists Work (Even if You Ignore Half of Them)
Here’s the deal. Book bucket lists aren’t about flexing at dinner parties like:
“Oh yes, War and Peace. Tolstoy really nailed it with the existential angst. Pass the kale.”
No. They’re about having a roadmap. A cheat sheet for days when Netflix just isn’t cutting it and you need a story bigger than your group chat drama.
For me, it’s also about accountability. Like, I can say I’ve read Moby-Dick—but in reality? I read three chapters, got distracted by a TikTok of a golden retriever wearing sunglasses, and never looked back. Still counts, right? (No. No, it doesn’t. Melville would haunt me.)
A Totally Non-Comprehensive (But Still Fun) List of Books People Swear You Gotta Read
This isn’t the full 100—because if I put that here, this blog post would be longer than Les Misérables (and nobody’s got the stamina for that). But here’s a sampling of what always pops up when you Google “100 books to read before you die”:
- To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (I read it in high school. Did not appreciate it. Reread as an adult and—oof. Different experience.)
- 1984 by George Orwell (Honestly feels less dystopian and more…Tuesday?)
- Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (Elizabeth Bennet walked so we could all have main-character energy.)
- Beloved by Toni Morrison (Will emotionally wreck you. In a good way.)
- The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger (You either love Holden or want to throttle him. Sometimes both.)
- The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (If you didn’t fantasize about throwing a Gatsby-style party after reading this, are you even living?)
- The Lord of the Rings trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien (I tried. Got stuck in the songs. Sent help.)
- The Color Purple by Alice Walker
- The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood (Gives new meaning to the phrase “chilling.”)
- Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy (Spoiler: trains. So many trains.)
That’s like…10% of the big list. You see why it’s overwhelming, right?
My Personal Reading Journey (aka: how I embarrass myself with books)
I’ll be real with you: I once bought Ulysses by James Joyce because some guy at a coffee shop was reading it and I thought it made him look hot. (Yeah. I was 22. Don’t judge.)
I cracked it open, read five pages, and felt like my brain short-circuited. To this day, it’s on my shelf, mocking me. Sometimes I dust it just to prove I haven’t given up completely.
Another time, I tried reading The Brothers Karamazov on a beach trip. Picture me, sunburned, sitting next to friends reading Colleen Hoover while I’m trying to keep track of like twelve Russian names that all sound the same. Did I finish it? Absolutely not. Did I feel like a genius for 48 hours? Kinda, yeah.
3 Reasons to Actually Attempt the 100 Books List
- Street Cred. You will never feel smarter than when you casually drop “Kafkaesque” in a conversation. Even if you don’t 100% know what it means.
- Perspective. Reading Toni Morrison or Gabriel García Márquez doesn’t just give you stories. It gives you a completely new way of looking at life. (Also…good luck going back to YA fantasy without sighing dramatically afterward.)
- That weird pride thing. There’s something deeply satisfying about checking a book off the list. Like finishing a marathon. But with less sweating.
How to Survive the Ultimate Book Bucket List Without Losing Your Mind
Here’s what I’ve learned:
- Don’t start with the heavy hitters (War and Peace, Infinite Jest, Ulysses). Unless you enjoy pain.
- Mix it up. One classic, one modern novel, one “fun” read. Kinda like a balanced diet, but for your brain.
- Audiobooks count. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. (Listening to The Iliad while doing laundry is peak multitasking.)
- Read with friends. Or at least make a fake book club where everyone pretends they’ve read the book but mostly talks about snacks.
Books That Surprised Me (in Good Ways)
- Jane Eyre — I thought it’d be boring. Turns out Jane is lowkey savage.
- Of Mice and Men — So short. So devastating. Like getting emotionally stabbed in under two hours.
- Frankenstein — Spoiler: the monster is not actually the monster. My high school teacher lied.
- Slaughterhouse-Five — Time travel, war, aliens. This book is…weird. But in a way I love.
Okay But…Do You Actually Need to Read All 100?
Nah. Honestly? No one’s handing out medals.
The whole “100 books to read before you die” thing is more like a suggestion than a commandment. If you die tomorrow without reading Crime and Punishment, nobody’s gonna revoke your bookworm card. (Although Dostoevsky might side-eye you from beyond the grave.)
What matters is that you find the books that hit you at the right time. Like, The Alchemist was exactly what I needed when I was 19 and confused about everything. Now? I’d probably roll my eyes at it. Books are about timing. About what you need, not what some list tells you.
Final Thought (because I’m rambling now)
Here’s my takeaway: the Ultimate Book Bucket List is cool, but don’t let it stress you out. Read the books that call to you. Abandon the ones that don’t. Pick them back up ten years later when you’re a different person. That’s the fun part.
And if you only ever make it through Harry Potter and The Great Gatsby? Guess what—still valid.
Now excuse me, I’m about to go reattempt Anna Karenina. Or maybe I’ll just scroll TikTok. Who knows.
