Category: True Story

Alissa Quart follows several different working class and lower middle class families as they try to navigate a world growing more and more expensive. From childcare to healthcare, American families can barely afford the necessities, let alone anything “extra” that might come up. Quart really pushes the idea that our country should better value caregiving, both for early childhood care and for seniors. You can really tell a lot about a country by how it treats its less wealthy citizens, and for America, it’s not always looking good.

Marie Mutsuki Mockett is a biracial Japanese American writer whose family has been farming in Nebraska for generations. So Mockett decides to follow the migrating wheat harvesters on the journey through Texas, Oklahoma, and eventually back to her family’s farm in Nebraska. As someone who has spent most of her life in urban centers, Mockett begins to reevaluate the assumptions that she has about the wheat harvesters. She begins to realize that there is a lot more to these men and women than she first thought.

Back in 2015, H Is for Hawk was everywhere. All of my bookish friends were talking about it. Acquaintances who knew I worked in books were asking me about it. Family members created impromptu book clubs to discuss it. H Is for Hawk is more than a nature book. That’s what everyone says, anyway. But for me, I think that as human beings, we are part of nature, not separate from it. So Macdonald’s unique way of connecting her grief from the death of her father and the training of her new Hawk made sense to me. That process of grieving and embracing this new creature in her life just worked.

When I first read Aimee Nezhukumatathil’s World of Wonders, it was like magic. She had this way of describing creatures and elements of nature in such a unique way. With each chapter, I felt that deep emotional connection she had for everything from peacocks to narwhals. She also discusses what it was like growing up not seeing many people of color in nature, and how that deeply affected her. Each essay is a gem, giving new insights with every chapter.

I adore Sam Maggs’ quirky sense of style in her illustrations, which makes this book so delightful. This adorable little book features so many incredible women throughout history. Wonder Women features scientists, adventurers, engineers, athletes, and so many more. I wish I’d had a book like this when I was a girl. It would have sparked my imagination, giving me a chance to see myself in so many different professions, so many possible futures. But even reading this for the first time in my late 20s, I felt so encouraged for how far women have come. Even with so far to go, I am proud of all the things we have accomplished so far.

I love Ann Shen’s illustrations. I first found her on Instagram, so when I learned she had a book coming out, I knew I had to get my hot little hands on a copy. It’s a beautifully illustrated book featuring dozens of women who changed the world. Women who have bucked the system and fought for change have long been described as “bad girls.” Shen turns this label on its head, featuring women who used their talents to change the world for the better. If you are looking for the perfect, beautiful book, this one is definitely a fantastic option.

Mikki Kendall discusses how modern day feminism has incredible gaps in its work. Kendall argues that feminism, particularly white feminism, fails to address issues like food insecurity, safe housing, disability, access to education, and ability to earn a living wage. Each essay discusses a different area that modern feminism could improve on, providing an intersectional approach to her writing. Kendall makes so many incredible points as she calls out feminism’s weaknesses and the areas where it could improve. If feminism is to continue to improve the lives of women, it must evolve.

Editor Miriam Khan has gathered together a stunning group of Muslim women writers who all share their experiences. In 2016, Miriam Kahn heard David Cameron had linked the radicalization of Muslim men to the “traditional submissiveness” of Muslim women. Appalled, Khan decided to push back with a collection of essays of Muslim women from around the world. They discuss issues around family, marriage, sex, gender, and so much more. This is such an incredible collection with so many different views and perspectives. A must-read for any nonfiction lover.

Machado’s memoir about her experience with an emotionally and physically abusive partner opens up a dialogue about queer relationships that we often shy away from in queer communities. Each chapter of In the Dream House is written in a different genre, a different style of writing that invites such a rich level of engagement with the text. As we get to know Machado and her partner, at first it seems like a fairy tale love story. But as their relationship progresses, we realize that their story is destined to be much darker. While this book is emotionally difficult, it’s an incredible work of art that I will treasure in my library.

Back in 2016, it felt like a different world. So when I picked up All the Single Ladies, which follows the history of single women in America, I was filled with a sense of hope that America was headed in such a great direction. Of course, that’s not exactly what happened. But All the Single Ladies and its coverage of the history of women in work, politics, and other kinds of independence, still holds up after several years. I was astounded how many ridiculous laws women had to wade through across the country. I still open this book and reread sections, marveling at how far we’ve come and reminding myself how far we still have yet to go.

In response to James Baldwin’s The Fire Next Time, The Fire This Time is a collection of essays edited by Ward. It includes pieces by incredible writers, including Carol Anderson, Jericho Brown, Edwidge Danticat, Kevin Young, Claudia Rankine, and Honoree Jeffers. Each selection looks at a different aspect of Black identity — whether that be in the past, present, or future — and often includes the writer’s personal experience engaging with Baldwin’s work. In addition to her introduction to the collection, Ward writes about how she bought commercial DNA tests for her and her parents. She describes what a privilege it is to know where you came from, and how her parents were able to regain so much knowledge by better understanding their background. Her father was even able to reconnect with his Native Nation.

In her memoir, Men We Reaped, Jesmyn Ward alternated between writing chapters about her childhood growing up in the Mississippi Delta region and the stories of five men in her life who died far too young, including her brother. With each new man we meet, Ward describes their vibrant personalities, family histories, hopes, and dreams. Each of these men’s lives ended too soon because of the systemic racism they experienced and the long lasting effects of intergenerational trauma. But her portrait of these men also includes a lot of joy, the happy memories Ward grabs and holds onto tightly through her writing. Her prose is stunning and her observations sharp. This memoir is an incredible tribute to these men and her words are a call for change in the systems that played such a huge role in how these men’s lives ended far too soon.

Iliana Regan grew up on a small farm in Indiana, going out on foraging expeditions with her family members and learning how to live with the land around her. As she grew older and began to realize she was queer, she tried to bury that knowledge with alcoholism and an intense amount of work in the food industry. As she worked her way up through the restaurant world, she discovered her calling, the thing that gave her purpose. She began to focus more on ingredients, remembering her childhood spent searching for ingredients with her family. Regan writes about her complex inner world, struggling to stay sober and create a better world for herself where she accepts who she is and becomes her best self. Eventually, she started a Michelin-starred restaurant that put her name on the map. What’s more, Burn the Place became the first food-related book in four decades to be longlisted for the National Book Award.

David Chang is known for his food documentaries Ugly Delicious and Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. And before that, he was known as a rising star, chef-owner of his award-winning restaurant Momofuku. But while everyone admired Chang for being a successful entrepreneur and chef, inside, he struggled with anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation. He struggled with anger management, yelling at his staff and hating himself after. After several years of therapy, David Chang finally came to the realization that he was, in fact, the problem. In his memoir, Chang describes his life as the child of Korean immigrants, his father pushing him to be the best golfer he could be. But Chang chafed at his parents’ never-ending list of expectations, while simultaneously understanding that pushing him was their form of loving him. Eat a Peach is not a memoir of a man who’s finished his path to healing. Instead, it is written by a man who has just started healing and is now facing the consequences of his actions, just beginning to make amends to the people he’s hurt along the way.

Megan Phelps-Roper was raised in Westboro Baptist Church, which was founded by her grandfather, Fred Phelps. The church became known for their outrageous protests of everything from military funerals to gay pride events. They also rejoiced in natural disasters and devastation from the AIDS crisis. All of this felt normal to Phelps-Roper. What’s more, it felt right. But then, slowly, over the course of years, her mind began to change, and she eventually left the church in 2012. Her memoir describes the isolating nature of her family’s faith, difficulties breaking out of that mindset, and the complicated logistics of trying to leave a place that doesn’t want to let you go.

I love when poets write prose, and Saeed Jones is no exception. He writes so beautifully, with every sentence, every word, carefully chosen. His memoir follows his life growing up as a gay Black kid in the South, trying to find a place for himself when everyone around him kept telling him everything about him was wrong. He was too Black, too gay, too loud — always too much for the people around him, especially some of his family members. Jones has such a beautiful way of writing about his complex relationships with his mom and his grandmother, two women he loved dearly. It’s so difficult to love your family while also understanding that they don’t love ALL of you, just the parts they like. I can’t do this memoir justice, but let me tell you, if you’re a memoir lover, this one needs to be at the top of your list.

I adored Laila Lalami’s The Moor’s Account. It’s one of my favorite pieces of historical fiction. So when I heard she was publishing a collection of essays, I knew I needed to get a hold of them as quickly as possible. Lalami’s essays examine her experience moving to the U.S. from Morocco, pursuing the American Dream. She’d heard so much about the success one could achieve in America. But when she finally got here, and as she follows her path to U.S. citizenship, she begins to rethink her initial assumptions. She starts to think that the American Dream is really only available for certain kinds of immigrants. Lalami is an incredible prose stylist with such sharp observational skills. I love how she crafts each essay to be its own unique gem, but they all add to the overarching theme of the collection.

Samra Habib grew up as an Ahmadi Muslim in Pakistan, eventually fleeing violence against people from their sect and finding refuge in Canada. At first, Habib thought that all their problems might be solved, but in their new country, they faced racism and Islamophobia. And as they grew up, they began to realize that they weren’t exactly straight. Habib writes their memoir with no fear of presenting themself as a messy, very flawed human being. They work through their sexuality and faith throughout their story, eventually coming to a place that works for them. Their story doesn’t end wrapped up in a pretty bow. Instead it’s more untidy, glorious in its own imperfections. This is a queer memoir unlike anything I’ve ever read and definitely worth your time.

Author Joshua Whitehead made his name with his award-winning novel Jonny Appleseed. Now he’s back with his first work of nonfiction, a collection of essays that discusses the creative limitations of western literary tradition and his perspective of decolonizing queer storytelling. Whitehead examines the role of trauma in his writing, calling his new idea “biostory,” a form of story informed by the body. Making Love with the Land is February’s pick for the Indigenous Reading Circle, a book club led by Erin and Dani, two Native bookstgrammers.

South Carolinian Dorothy Allison is one of the most well known queer writers of her generation. She grew up in rural South Carolina, where I live now, and wrote about her childhood experience with sexual assault in a way that few writers had at the time. She was an example to so many women, giving voice to something far too many young girls have experienced. Her prose is brilliant — so many details in a single sentence. She writes about living as a queer woman, and working through her childhood trauma even as she came into her own as an adult. This book sits right under 100 pages but contains an overflowing wealth of wisdom from one of America’s greatest writers.