Everyone who really knows me-- which, in fact, is very few people-- is aware that I have been a die-hard Capote fan for decades. So much a fan, in fact, that I named one of my children for one of his most famous novels. I have always found his fiction to be fascinating, and his nonfiction to be even better. While In Cold Blood is nothing short of a literary masterpiece, it was Capote's fiction that I'd found first.
I am not generally a fan of fiction. When a work of fiction captures and holds my interest, it is likely to consist of two factors: a good writing style, and at least some degree of autobiography. While most of Jack Kerouac's material meets and exceeds these expectations, he really has it covered in "Tristessa." This 96-page novel,
http://www.amazon.com/Tristessa-Jack-Kerouac/dp/0070342393/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1325957779&sr=8-3, published in 1960, tells the story of Kerouac's infatuation with a beautiful woman he'd met when he was living in Mexico.