“Oh, you like books, tell me, what should I read?” is among my least favourite questions in the world. It’s not that I don’t like to recommend books per se – I do, I like doing almost anything book-related and it’s also rather flattering when people see you as some sort of a book whisperer who can pick the right one for them. But that’s exactly the problem: recommending books is a bit like working with vulnerable animals – very tricky and also a huge responsibility. What if I mess up?

I am extremely reluctant to recommend books to people whom I don’t know very well and whose taste I’m not familiar with. Are they fiction or non-fiction people or both? What genres do they like? What’s their attention span? How much do they know about the subject matter? How much darkness can they take? Do they have any triggers? Are they fine with ambiguous endings? Flowery language? Extreme abstractions?

Generally, it’s easier to recommend things to people who already read a lot. You can compare notes on books you’ve both read, discuss your favourites and general likes and dislikes. And it’s of course especially useful if you know that you have a big overlap in your tastes. There are a couple of people in my life – physical and online – with whom I can be about 90% certain that if they enjoyed a book, I will too. Sometimes this doesn’t function across the board and is specific to certain genres, like fantasy or feminist non-fiction. The other thing that makes recommending easier is people with very specific tastes. If they exclusively adore books about productivity, that’s very helpful (if in my view unexciting).

Even when you think you’re completely in tune with someone, things can go wrong. There have been situations where I’ve been absolutely certain a book is perfect for someone and they have not liked it at all. Frankly, it can feel like a rejection when someone whose taste you admire and respect does not return your literary feelings. And very frankly, it can also go the other way – if I love the book enough, I might start to suspect that the person in question cannot be that fantastic after all, if they are unable to appreciate such a brilliant book!

So what hope is there in situations where I don’t know the person well, they perhaps reads a few books a year and I can sense that our tastes differ significantly? What if I recommend something, they don’t like it and it makes them even less inclined to read? I just cannot handle this sort of pressure. There are some books among my favourites that appeal to a wide range of people – Madeline Miller’s Circe, Trevor Noah’s Born a Crime, to give two recent examples -, but there is no book I could with good conscience recommend to everyone. Hence the panic, when the question is dropped.

If this recommendation business is so painful and fraught, why bother with it then? It is a fair point, especially as I generally believe people should not complain about stuff that nobody is forcing them to do in the first place. If it’s so difficult and unpleasant, just shut up and don’t recommend anything to anyone. But the thing is, when it works, it is magical.

There are very few things more rewarding than connecting someone to a book they will love, a book that they need at a certain moment, a book that speaks to them. Sometimes I read a couple of pages and I already know I need to tell somebody about it. It’s not even necessary that I love it, although shared book ecstasy is a powerful experience. It can feel even better when you realise that the text you are reading is not quite for you, but would be exactly right for someone else.

And then of course there are moments when the fates return the favour and someone recommends you a book YOU need. Proof, that you are part of their bookish landscape, that they paid attention, that they understand. If I need to suffer a bit of panic and occasional rejection to experience this, so be it.

For Suss, with whom I feel that 90% certainty; for Liina, whose love for the repressed mid-20th century men I don’t share but respect; for Anna-Kaisa who recommended me a book about poker (thank you) and for Asya, to whom I recommended a book about a lake.