73 Books Like Famous Father Girl

If you’ve ever wondered (or haven’t) what Richard Nixon, Jane Fonda, Linda Ronstadt, All in the Family, and the films Chinatown and Shampoo share in common, and why it matters, author and political correspondent Ronald Brownstein connects the dots in a compelling examination of how the seismic cultural upheavals we attribute to the late 60s were in fact late bloomers, leaving their mark only in the early 70s.  

Part nostalgia, part pop and TV history, part political analysis, this book zeros in on the cast of personalities and classic artistic works that collectively made 1974 the pivotal year in the modern American zeitgeist. Something for everyone who lived through that time—I can attest to that—and a timely cultural history lesson for those who didn’t.

Electric guitars are all around us, but they didn’t just burst upon the scene with 1950s rock ‘n’ roll, fully formed; their zig-zaggy path to ubiquity surprised me, and I’m sure it will surprise others. Ian Port’s captivating triple biography of the electrified guitar and its creators Leo Fender and Les Paul (the Gibson guitar), is set against the atmosphere of competing visions and vicious rivalry between Fender and Gibson, and their rush to win the hearts and pocketbooks of their famed rocker customers. 

This very American tale of spontaneous mom-and-pop invention that spawned a beloved tool of music we take for granted uncovers the dark and sometimes clandestine side of its creation. It resonated with my own similar discoveries about Bob Moog and his synthesizer.

As a New Yorker, I’ve glanced fleetingly over the years at architect Philip Johnson’s monumental structures that dot the city, and as a Ph.D. student, I spent hours researching under the atrium of his Bobst Library at NYU, assuming incorrectly—as this book demonstrates—that Johnson was a traditionally-schooled, distinguished architect of sound personal character. Lamster’s revealing biography untangles a disturbingly complex man—an almost gentleman farmer among architects with limited technical background, lofty plans, and a lifelong engagement with fascism.  

This book pulls back the curtain to unveil an unexpected trail of machinations between Johnson and his circle of the wealthy and powerful, showing how a doyen of modern culture hid his failings from the public behind the façade of his towering creations.  

The invention of the radio came at a great price for Edwin Armstrong, inventor of the key component that made broadcasting possible. Financially ruined by nefarious competition, he jumped from a window. Lewis’s gripping account of the lives of Armstrong, Lee de Forest, and David Sarnoff—the pioneers who put our lives on the air—is another tug-of-war tale of who got there first or who claimed to have gotten there first and who would profit from crossing the finish line, deserved or not.  

I’ve researched the history of radio extensively for my own writing, and Lewis’s account is surely the best seat-of-the-pants history of this technology that fostered not only radio but every incarnation of electronics during the first half of the 20th century. 

I love showbiz biographies full of the inside dope on glamorous, brilliant people, because I’ve always wanted to be one of those glamorous, brilliant people. 

Mike Nichols knew everyone important in the arts, ate at the most fabulous restaurants, traveled to the most luxurious locations, and owned several grand homes. And I am pleased to report that he was frequently anxious and depressed. 

I find it very reassuring to learn that someone who has everything I’ve ever dreamed of is no happier than I am. I know that sounds a little mean, but I never claimed to be perfect.

It was one of Toller Cranston's performances that first inspired me to take up figure skating.
There was something so bold, expressive, and larger than life about his performances. Those qualities are all front and center in his biography Zero Tollerance. Toller was never afraid to speak his mind, shake the tree or let the truth get in the way of a good story... and this biography is resplendent with great stories, heart, and humour.

This book, about the CIA’s secret funding of art and culture in the Cold War battle for hearts and minds, caused a big stir on its publication in 2000. Written by a young British researcher, it scathingly criticized the Agency’s cultural operations (a source of some pride among intelligence veterans), arguing that they compromised and undermined the very artistic values they were supposed to defend. Several writers on the same subject since, myself included, have argued with aspects of her work, but Saunders’ research and storytelling are second to none. A harsh but hugely informative and entertaining account of one of the most intriguing chapters in the history of the Cold War.

It was very interesting to follow Laurie Kaye’s progression from a childhood of neglect and abuse to radio fan and later, to becoming a radio star. Her resume of interviews with rock stars and celebrities is stunning. Her intimate descriptions made me feel as if I was there during her incredible moments with several Beatles members and other superstars, who warmed up to her intelligent questions.

Laurie got the scoop of a lifetime with her RKO radio team in 1980—an interview with John Lennon and Yoko Ono, which tragically turned out to be John’s last. He was murdered hours later. As the author of a Yoko Ono biography, I was thrilled that Laurie accurately described Yoko in a positive light. I found it exciting and harrowing to read about how Laurie’s life became entwined with the sudden death of Lennon, which shattered her psyche and shook the whole world. A… show more.

What happened to the individual members of the Beatles in the years after the group dissolved? Many books have been devoted to that part of their saga, but few gripped me as much as this detailed, well-researched story of McCartney and his band Wings. Written with the cooperation of Macca—who gave several interviews to Doyle—Man on the Run makes you realize how chaotic, unstable, and (to use a period phrase) wild and crazy Wings were, despite the banality of some of their music. In that regard, it’s a perfect Seventies story: Beneath the seemingly mellow vibes and image lie a far more turbulent saga, reflecting the way McCartney himself repeatedly grappled with redefining himself after his tenure in arguably the greatest pop group of all time. 

I’ve read many books about The Beatles. I have very high standards, given that The Beatles are easily my favorite rock band.

I love their music so much, I even wrote a science fiction alternate history novel in which John Lennon was never assassinated, and The Beatles were still together making great music in the 1990s.

Dreaming the Beatles by Rob Sheffield checks all of my boxes. Not only does it contain fabulous insights into The Beatles, laced with little-known facts about them, but the book is written in Sheffield’s inimitable style, in which he plays on the titles of Beatles songs with puns that have the punch of truth, like I would be doing if I said I always wanted to be a paperback writer.