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Summers are about barbecues, parties and, of course, about lounging outside with a cocktail in one hand and a fantastic summer read in the other. I’ve stocked up on coals, bought the outfits, and my mojito is ready and waiting. This year my to-read list includes some of the classics I fell in love with many years ago (I won’t say how many, so don’t ask me).

The genre I write in is urban fantasy, but I also read paranormal romance, sci-fi, epic fantasy and a little bit of crime. Back at college, when I thought fantasy was for eight-year-old boys, my book diet contained predominantly Penguin classics, with the odd Agatha Christie novel (for roughage!). Now I’m ready to re-explore the stories to find out why they had such a huge impact on me. Why don’t you join me? If you’ve never read a “classic” and expect a big bag of dull, you’re in for quite the surprise. There’s a reason millions of people rate them.

So, will I be devouring the big hitters, like War and Peace, Anna Karenina, Crime and Punishment, Pride and Prejudice, Moby Dick, or The Old Man And The Sea? Erm, nope. Although they’re certainly books to get your teeth into, some of the stories, especially War and Peace, are twisted and overly complicated, while others seem a little simple (Moby Dick). But mostly the writing is…long. The style so adored in those days differs drastically from today’s commercial fiction. To me, these are winter reads, appropriate for long evenings in front of the fireplace. For the summer, I want pure entertainment without having to write out complex charts and tables to keep track of the plot.

The first one I’ll open is Vladimir Nobokov’s Lolita, one of the plain meanest books ever written. On my first attempt, after the first fifty pages, I chucked the book into a corner. Not because the writing wasn’t great. Quite the opposite. The lead Humbert Humbert is such a sympathetic character, I found myself liking him. And that was the problem. He does despicable things, and I liked him. Humbert Humbert is not a hero. Neither is Lolita, the twelve-year-old girl with whom he is obsessed. Yet the writing lured me back, and second time around, I finished it in one sitting. Lolita is best described as a tragicomedy full of wry observations about America and people. In short, it’s one of those books that stayed with me.

John Buchan’s The Thirty-Nine Steps is the first of five novels about man-on-the-run Richard Hannay, an ordinary guy who’s drawn into an unlikely spy-and-mouse game. With a convoluted plot and a hero who develops into a more than capable spy, you can’t go wrong. It was one of the first “classics” I ever read and it put James Bond to shame. Seriously. It’s a nail-biter.

George and Wheedon Grossmith’s The Diary of a Nobody is one of my all-time favorites. The diary records the lives of a London clerk, Charles Pooter, his wife, son and friends and acquaintances. The delicious wit turns a book about the dullest person with the dullest job and the worst sense of humor into a must-read.

Jack Kerouac aptly called his book about his travels across America On the Road. His take on the “Beat” generation and its illustrious characters is full of humanity and longing, but also streaked with the despair and anger that follows some artists and poets around like a bad onion smell. Kerouac initially wrote his masterpiece on a “scroll,” a series of sheets taped together to form one stream of consciousness. I wonder what my editor would say if I tried that… The book has now been released, as originally intended, in one long chunk of text, for those who are feeling brave. Whichever format you choose, it’s an intense read, and the characters will live on in your mind for years.

Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird is a Pulitzer-Prize-winning read about rape and racial equality, but told with such warmth and humor, its cult status is well deserved. I once heard that Lee considered calling the book “Atticus,” after the moral hero of the story. She later changed the title, because it was so much more than just a character portrait. I agree. There’s a lot here to grab on to, but most I recall the atmosphere Lee conjures with her writing, gritty and naked, yet always suffused with a deep sense of hope.

Finally, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby sticks most in my mind for the emotions it evoked at the time—the Jazz area, a bit of a wild ride—but the details are kind of blurred, making it a perfect re-read this summer. I do remember it as a book that starts with glamour and confidence, then descends into tragedy, making pit stops at love and infidelity along the way.

Of course there are many other classics I love. Little Women, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, basically everything Jack London has ever written, but these five are this year’s must-re-reads. Why only six? Because, as much as I love the classics, life is too short to regurgitate plots you already know. Not when there are so many new stories just waiting for you to discover.

However you choose to spend your summer, keep reading.