Books like Dark Harbor — picked by fans

My father was the child of poor New York emigrants who, like our Ireland-born subject, Paul O’Dwyer, made his way into the American middle class through education, hard work, the beneficial effects of the New Deal, and the impact of labor organizing. All of these had the added benefit of restraining the tides of economic inequality and easing the galling undertow of racism. As American society retreated in my adult lifetime into rank nativism, political race-baiting, and an ever-widening gulf between the very rich and everyone else, I was attracted to the idea of taking the measure of a lawyer-activist-politician in New York in the 20th century, Paul O’Dwyer. 

My father was the child of poor New York emigrants who, like our Ireland-born subject, Paul O’Dwyer, made his way into the American middle class through education, hard work, the beneficial effects of the New Deal, and the impact of labor organizing. All of these had the added benefit of restraining the tides of economic inequality and easing the galling undertow of racism. As American society retreated in my adult lifetime into rank nativism, political race-baiting, and an ever-widening gulf between the very rich and everyone else, I was attracted to the idea of taking the measure of a lawyer-activist-politician in New York in the 20th century, Paul O’Dwyer. 

My father was the child of poor New York emigrants who, like our Ireland-born subject, Paul O’Dwyer, made his way into the American middle class through education, hard work, the beneficial effects of the New Deal, and the impact of labor organizing. All of these had the added benefit of restraining the tides of economic inequality and easing the galling undertow of racism. As American society retreated in my adult lifetime into rank nativism, political race-baiting, and an ever-widening gulf between the very rich and everyone else, I was attracted to the idea of taking the measure of a lawyer-activist-politician in New York in the 20th century, Paul O’Dwyer. 

My father was the child of poor New York emigrants who, like our Ireland-born subject, Paul O’Dwyer, made his way into the American middle class through education, hard work, the beneficial effects of the New Deal, and the impact of labor organizing. All of these had the added benefit of restraining the tides of economic inequality and easing the galling undertow of racism. As American society retreated in my adult lifetime into rank nativism, political race-baiting, and an ever-widening gulf between the very rich and everyone else, I was attracted to the idea of taking the measure of a lawyer-activist-politician in New York in the 20th century, Paul O’Dwyer. 

I read a lot of literary fiction. At the moment, I’m finishing To Paradise by Hanya Yanagihara, which I’ve enjoyed and whose novel, A Little Life, was brilliant. My interest in thriller fiction is sparked by writers who bring their considerable literary talents to their trade. John LeCarré comes to mind. Writers who sacrifice depth of character or concern for place quickly lose my interest. Thankfully, there are many thriller writers who do a superb job of keeping my wandering nature in check. (A quick note: I also write dystopian fiction under my pen name James Jaros.)

Charles Templeton has been there and understands the stories of those who served in combat. He understands the wounds that do not heal after fifty years and those warriors, who in their writing, try to provide a sense of understanding and vision to their stories. He served as a Marine helicopter crew chief during the American War in Vietnam. His love of Vietnam literature began in 1967 and continues to this day. One voice that he feels has been neglected, is that of the women who served in that war, on both sides, and those who still carry the scars of that war with them. After fifty years of researching and writing about the war, he believes there is a literature of the Vietnam War with a female perspective, and enough of it that you can identify the good and the bad. He writes book reviews for the Vietnam Veterans of America. Charles also edits and publishes an avant-garde literary online magazine, eMerge. And, he and his wife started and published a weekly newspaper in Eureka Springs, Arkansas for a few years, The Independent.

As someone who served in Iraq with the Army in 2004, I have been inspired and—in many ways—saved by the work of these American veterans who wrote before me. In their work, they showed me a path in which to write and live. While I would love to list more books, these are the ones that I’ve been going back to most recently. Beyond simply capturing “war,” all of these writers reckon with mortality, loss, longing, and love. 

As I write this, I massage aching bits of shrapnel still embedded beneath silvered scars. I’ve read many Vietnam War stories—praising the war, glorifying combat, condemning the war. My stories are 1st person limited POV, voice of a twenty-year-old sailor. My title is a spin-off of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. By the time I wrote my memoir, I realized that our national goals in Vietnam had been Muddy from the beginning. I too, traveled Jungle Rivers. During my time on the riverboat, I witnessed Rivers of blood—rivers of life, trickle across our deck. And yes, Jungle is a fitting metaphor for our life at that time.

I have been fascinated with the sixties and its counterculture ever since I was about eleven or twelve, and I found out that the summer I was born, 1967, was called the Summer of Love. Because of this fascination, I started reading writers like Jack Kerouac and Hunter S. Thompson at an early age. Then, I became a lover of the Grateful Dead and went on tour with them as a fan for a couple of years in my late teens. It was the best way remaining in this country, in the 1980s, to be a hippie in some real way. I still love the music and literature of that time.

As I write this, I massage aching bits of shrapnel still embedded beneath silvered scars. I’ve read many Vietnam War stories—praising the war, glorifying combat, condemning the war. My stories are 1st person limited POV, voice of a twenty-year-old sailor. My title is a spin-off of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. By the time I wrote my memoir, I realized that our national goals in Vietnam had been Muddy from the beginning. I too, traveled Jungle Rivers. During my time on the riverboat, I witnessed Rivers of blood—rivers of life, trickle across our deck. And yes, Jungle is a fitting metaphor for our life at that time.