The best historical fiction with bad-ass women protagonists

I love this book because of the strange and wonderful 10-year-old female protagonist, a white girl who is “rescued” from Kiowa captivity on the Texas frontier in 1870, a time of Indian raids and pervasive anarchy.

This girl was assimilated into her Indian family and considers her “rescue” a kidnapping; she remembers almost nothing of her family of origin. She is icy-veined, fearless, and creatively violent. The scene where she improvises ammunition from hundreds of dimes (yes, coins) blew my mind.

From this book, I learned about how whites (especially children) who were captured by Indians quickly abandoned their former lives and usually did not want to return if given the opportunity. The language is spare, tough, and beautiful. I did not want this book to end.

Here's another amazing woman—angry, determined 18-year-old Adair—who travels through Missouri’s brutal Civil War landscape looking for her father. Jailed in St. Louis under horrid conditions for suspected Confederate sympathies, she brawls with a fellow prisoner, strategically worms her way into the prison matron’s good graces, then captures the heart of a Union interrogator who helps her escape.

I am not a horse person, but Jiles’s description of Adair’s relationship with her horse Whiskey is otherworldly and totally converted me. One nightmare scene follows another as Adair makes her way back to her family home, and I love the resourceful lies she concocts to save herself and Whiskey amid guerrilla warfare and martial law.

Beautiful language; Jiles is a poet, and it shows.

OK, I’m a pioneer junkie, and here’s the scene: Kentucky frontier, 1700s. Daniel Boone country, but he’s a minor character. I love the star of this show: Hannah, a large, strong woman who holds her own in this time and place. I love how she seizes upon her limited choices. As one of the few women in the settlement, all the unattached dudes want to marry her, yet she proposes to the one who’s too shy to ask.

I love that she values her own survival skills: plowing and hunting, chopping wood, weaving cloth, working until the moment she goes into labor. This is the type of woman who settled the American wilderness. She made me wonder about all those like her whose stories I’d never heard.

I love me a tomboy. And that’s Caddie Woodlawn, who lives on the Wisconsin frontier with her family in the 1860s, where there are still Indians in the woods, and all the richness of nature to explore with her two brothers. Plus lots of mischief to get into. The threat of a proper, domestic young lady’s life looms, but with her father to support her, Caddie resists it.

I love this book because it brings me back to my own childhood, where my siblings and I played for endless days in the woods and creek around our home, making pretend food out of sticks and mud, catching frogs and salamanders, and building forts. The kind of childhood that few children now have in suburban America.

I love this book’s two freedom fighters: the historical Sarah Grimké and the fictional enslaved woman Handful.

It’s the early 1800s in Charleston, SC. Privileged white girl Sarah bucks cultural expectations for women, while Handful fights the cruel slavery system. Sarah repudiates her upbringing in order to support abolition, and Handful stakes everything in pursuit of freedom, “to leave or die trying.”

I loved learning about the Grimké sisters, giants in the abolition movement, and the West African story-quilt tradition, whereby women tell their lives through the art of needlework. This book was transformative for me; Sarah’s and Handful’s transgressive courage has helped me through difficult times of my own. If they could face their obstacles, then by golly, I can face mine.