Books like Junkers — picked by fans

Impossible to omit this one from a list for writers!

A perennial classic that keeps coming back in new forms—even illustrated! Even if the advice is often dry (as my first writing teacher used to say, its authors tend to “strunk you on the head”), The Elements of Style is solid. No minced words here.

In any century, in any genre, for any class or any project, this book teaches writing well.

This book is a revelation! The author (1907-1977) was a scientist (a naturalist, anthropologist, and paleontologist), and, boy, could he write. The title refers to the arc of time on this planet. There are chapters that describe and ponder fossils, evolution, so-called missing links, “the great deeps,” and so forth in the most captivating, poetic language. But the chapter to read is “How Flowers Changed the World.” I consider it the most important and insightful essay ever written on the dramatic arrival of angiosperms (flowering plants)—because he takes into account all context, and because he marvels. As we should.

This book greatly influenced my philosophy around style. Norman's ostensible subject is the design of physical objects, like emergency exits, shower faucets, and refrigerators, but most of what he says is directly applicable to software design and API design, too.

For example: Whatever you expose or document about your interface, the user will take that and form a mental model of the implementation—and he'll program against that mental model, not against your documentation. So you'd better make sure that your interface—by exposing certain details and deemphasizing others, appropriate naming, and so on—suggests a mental model that will be useful to the user (even if it is not correct in every particular).

For example, a horizontal rod mounted on a door affords pushing (a bit of jargon that's entered my technical vocabulary), while a vertical rod affords pulling. If you use the design language of a horizontal rod, people will… show more.

I like to look at the big picture. This book’s picture is huge: it explains three waves of human civilization, from agriculture and land ownership, to centralization and mass manufacturing, to distributed and custom everything—the wave we are in now. It was originally published in 1980 and predicted our current culture and technology with astonishing accuracy. I, and many entrepreneurs of the time, tried to use those predictions to guide our businesses, and many, like Amazon, succeeded as a result. Are there still more third wave things to invent? Yes—think of how streaming video channels are just now taking over from cable and broadcast, not to mention movie theatres. Will this help you invent the next big thing? Maybe. And what will the fourth wave be?

Full disclosure: Adrienne Mayor is my wife. But that is not why I chose this book: It is a mind-blowing account of ancient dreams of technology and ancient scientific wonders. Mayor is a master storyteller. She recreates the ancient myths to reveal the timeless fascination with “artificial life” – with beings that are like us in some ways, except that they are “made, not born.” Long before humans could create real mechanical men and thinking machines, the Greeks dared to imagine what that would mean for humans and our relations with one another. And they imagined the inner lives and torments of the semi-machines themselves. Read this book and shiver to learn that our modernity was dreamed of 2500 years ago. 

It’s amazing what a little crayon can do, especially when it’s broken.

Inspired by Ohi’s viral broken crayon illustrations, Park invites two aliens into the planet of broken crayons where magic is made. It’s amazing what a little friendship and art can do together (hmm, similar theme to Dear Unicorn, now that I think of it). Bonus: check out Ohi’s social media for loads more creative found object artwork.

A boy and a robot decide to play together. The robot’s switch is bumped, and he turns off. The boy tries to help—he feeds the robot applesauce, reads him a story, and tucks him in. When his switch is bumped again, Bot tries to help the sleeping boy, giving him oil, reading him an instruction manual, and getting a battery. Only when the inventor shouts, “Stop! That is a boy!” do the friends sort of understand each other. You can do your best robot voice reading this aloud, and the brightly-colored pictures add warmth and jokes to the story.

I love this novel. I read it well after my own came out, but the strong, badass, stoic female main character reminded me a lot of Delia from What Branches Grow (despite Brittle being a robot). The often dark and gritty scenes interspersed with moments of emotion and laugh-out-loud absurd humour turned a story that could have been depressing into one that was a helluva lot of fun. The raiders in this novel also fit the trope in the same homage to Mad Max/Fallout that mine do in What Branches Grow, albeit in a way I didn’t expect. The novel is also a quest through the wasteland with a ragtag group that culminates in a final battle, which is a similar trajectory to my novel (and a plotfline in this genre I very much enjoy).

Like an earlier entry on this list, this story utilizes a unique format. In Sleeping Giants the reader is exposed to a first contact-like plot. Rose is a scientist and the woman spearheading a project to make sense of the discovery of giant robot parts hidden beneath the Earth’s surface. She, along with one of the project pilots, Kara, provide both depth and distance to events thanks to the help of a mysterious interviewer who does well to keep the reader engaged. We discover things as the characters do, and their revelations linger just enough for the reader to crave a sequel. I appreciate the complexity of the sci-fi in the story—there are aliens, robots, and perhaps a few international conspiracy theories.

Software is a zany romp through a 1983 vision of 2020, with sapient AIs living on the moon and maybe invading South Florida. 

Like its author, Software is a rich amalgamation of disparate elements: on the one side, the book is campy fun, while on the other, it’s a legitimate exploration of Artificial Intelligence and identity. Back when I was first getting into cyberpunk, this was another difficult find, despite having won the Philip K. Dick award; I actually didn’t read it until the late ‘90s! 

The author’s life is nearly as interesting as his books, too: his full name is Rudolf von Bitter Rucker, a descendant of German philosopher Georg Friedrich Hegel, though he grew up in Louisville, KY, and he would eventually develop his own literary movement, Transrealism.