I like to give books as presents, to the frustration of everyone I know. Who has time to read?! I would also like to give some books to you, the readers, but I don’t know who you are. So I’ve adressed these gifts more generally, and then you can pick whichever tag fits. You must buy (or steal) the book yourself.

To a political pundit: Nixonland, by Rick Perlstein

To a mumorpeger-playing alpha geek: Halting State, by Charles Stross

To someone who needs to quit whining: The Discourses of Epictetus

To someone who has lost faith in fantasy novels: The Name of the Wind, by Patrick Rothfuss

To myself at 10: The Adventures of Endill Swift, by Stuart McDonald

To myself at 16: Callahan’s Crosstime Saloon, by Spider Robinson

To someone who takes things too lightly: Shikasta, by Doris Lessing

To someone who takes things too seriously: Tales of the Dying Earth, by Jack Vance

To someone interested in early 20th century Europe: The Pyat Quartet, by Michael Moorcock

To someone rather clever: Slaughtermatic, by Steve Aylett

To a teenage rebel (or someone you want to make into one): Little Brother, by Cory Doctorow

To the discerning short story reader: The Golden Apples of the Sun, by Ray Bradbury

Happy annual celebration of the Jesus child deity!