Books like Flesh and Blood — picked by fans

Again and again, Terry Tempest Williams shows us we can live in a disaster zone, literal and emotional, and survive.

Refuge, her fourth major book, testifies to the calamities set in motion by the atomic testing that occurred in the Nevada desert during the 1950’s. The book weaves the story of her mother and grandmother’s resultant deaths from cancer and the flooding of the Great Salt Lake that has endangered native bird species.

The loss she records is human and non-human, bringing home a truth we have yet to learn: that sullying the Great Mother, our earth, threatens our own bodies and those of future generations. If Refuge is a record of lamentations, it is also a missive for restoration and regeneration and a document of hope.

Risk-taking writers are my heroes, and Katherine Dunn is at the top of my list.

Her astonishing book Geek Love, a cult classic, defiantly celebrates the freakish and bizarre, tearing to shreds the subjective and culturally determined definitions of normality, intelligence, and beauty. Dive into Geek Love, and you’ll be traveling with the Binewski family, owners of the “Carnival Fabulon,” whose “special” offspring are prized for their money-making monstrous endowments.

In creating Oly, an albino hunchback, or her brother Arty, born with flippers, or Chick, with telekinetic powers, Dunn risks alienating readers by turning her characters into stereotypes, comic or horrid. Instead, she has written a haunting, humorous, and existentially relevant novel about Otherness, about the afflictions of family life—alternatively claustrophobic and competitive or caring and dear.

In the matrix of family, we learn who we are and how to love. I, too, am a writer driven to explore… show more.

Diane Seuss is a poet of indefatigable courage.

The sonnets to her deceased father, Frank, sing of grief, despair, illness, but also of the miraculous ordinary, those lightning strikes of sudden joy or hilarity that somehow redeem us from the abyss. 

Breath-takingly, Seuss is not afraid to mention the unmentionable, piss and squalor, poverty, and needles. The speaker in her poems, like the princess who found her name in my fairy tale, refuses to be domesticated and bound by values alien to her being.

In an age of conformity, what stands out about Seuss’s poetry is her compassion for the wayward, destructive, and ultimately transformative aspects of self. As a reader, I will follow her anywhere. Wherever she leads me, I will be newly awakened to the extraordinary.

What is a heroine’s journey, and how does it differ from Joseph Campbell’s ubiquitous description of the archetypal and mythopoetic hero’s journey?

Maria Tatar’s book acts as a corrective and a complement to the common assumption that heroic deeds are accomplished only by men. The heroine’s journey, Tatar insists, is inspired not by a desire for glory and immortality involving physical brawn and combat, but rather by a call to restore and repair what has been dissembled. 

Heroines are driven by care and social justice, essentials for the survival of individuals and society, and their means involve the domestic arts of storytelling (Scheherazade), weaving (Penelope), cunning (Jane Eyre), curiosity, and courage (Nancy Drew).

This extraordinarily candid memoir is about the complex relationship between the author and his businessman father, both of whom had a secret life.

A self-confessed gay man, young Joe spent much of his life searching for his Ideal Friend in the twilight of homosexual London, but never admitted as much to his father. And only after the latter’s death did his son discover that for many years he had maintained a mistress and their three daughters in a house in Barnes.

The author unravels this complicated tale with impressive honesty and compassion, charting his own feelings of inadequacy, waste, and loss, and lamenting the fact that both he and his father remained ignorant of each other’s hearts and minds.

One of my favorite things about this book is how Chung effortlessly weaves the human experience with the magical, braiding in Korean folklore and science as she goes. The women in these stories are feeling their way through their worlds, both everyday and fantastical, stumbling through love, family, duty, loss, and talking dolls.

Chung’s stories are infused with an emotional numbness that feels so familiar to me, a shadow side I recognize in myself, too. This only made my heart break harder when each story ended, exposing all the different bones of womanhood. I always have that sense of Yes, that’s just it when I read her writing.

A coming of age story – for a fourteen-year-old who’s discovered she’s gay, her inadequate mother, her severely autistic younger sister, and a reclusive, distant older man and his dog.

The protagonist is the doer of the family who refuses to give in to poverty and give up to allow her sister to be institutionalized. What one determined soul can do when she refuses to give up.

I love stories that resolve in a happy ending, despite facing seemingly hopeless odds.

Okay. Fine. Maybe I only think this book is about loss because I know that, in later books, the same Glass family suffers losses and this sets the stage. But this is a story about a promise that is never realized and a relationship that is becoming progressively distant—and, in it, there is a sense of being lost if not having experienced a loss, specifically. In it, Buddy Glass takes Army leave to attend his brother’s wedding, but his brother never shows up. Somehow, Buddy winds up stuck in a limo with a group of disgruntled guests from whom he tries to hide his identity. In his sense of isolation, but also his awareness of the situation’s absurdity, we find humor and also sadness.

This bold, punchy book was an absolute winner in our house. The pages are BIG, giving space for the striking illustrations, and the story is deliciously gasp-worthy!  

The large, loud Shrimpton family just loves to be noticed, apart from Maude, who feels invisible in this houseful of flamboyant extroverts. We read this book a lot and gasped a little every time. Especially when it turned out to be a very good thing for Maude that she did blend in with her surroundings!

Maude was published in 2013 when my daughter was 8. She is 18 now and still loves it! But now she notices different things – how stylish the characters are and how striking the Shrimpton’s beautiful home is. Even the wallpaper is gorgeous!

I love this tale of Jess, single mom of young William, who sets off to spend the summer at her ex-boyfriend Adam's hotel—an idyllic, restored castle nestled into the sunlit hills of the French countryside. Her aim? To make Adam fall in love with his son. Jess can't allow Adam to let William down–because she is tormented by a secret, one that nobody–especially her son–must discover. Come for an equal-parts wry comedy and heart-wrenching family drama. Stay for a deliciously tender story about finding love and joy in unexpected places.