If you haven’t read Cormac McCarthy, that needs to change. His prose simply has no equal. The man was an actual, honest-to-god, national treasure. He was so formative for me as an author, and I’m just gutted by his death.
Be warned: if you’re going to attempt to read one of his books, you need to make sure that you have the time and space to give it proper attention. His work is heavy, like a slab of lead, and you need to be sure to give yourself extra time to digest things. But it’s so, so rewarding.
I had read The Road in high school and it did a number on me. It was so bleak and unforgiving, but also full of heart and was written in a way I had never experienced before. Honestly, most of it probably went way over my head. Years later I read Blood Meridian and Child of God and realized that I was reading what I still consider to be masterpieces of English writing.
If you haven’t given McCarthy a shot yet, I implore you to check his work out. He may genuinely have been the greatest American author of all time.