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?

I found this book in my high school library, fresh off of The Old Kingdom (trilogy, at the time), and while I needed a break from the Ender's series. Seeing it on the shelf, it looked like a perfect option against the cultural backdrop that was the success of The Matrix.

This is from the less-likely-to-happen end of dystopian spectrum and involves evil overlords ruling over everyone after anyone over the age of fourteen has "disappeared" due to the "Change". No one over fourteen exists due to something called a "sad birthday", of which the details here will be spared, except to say it makes the annual games between districts look like little more than fanfare. Also, please keep stocking this book in school libraries because it is terrifying.

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).

I love this rhyming bedtime picture book for all its kid-friendly robotic vocabulary and the beautiful art that is full of clever bits to discover over multiple reads. This book is one of my favorite picture books to gift at baby showers and young kids’ birthday parties. This book has it all – all the way to the sweet twist ending!

Cog, short for “cognitive development,” is the name of a robot built like a 12-year-old boy and programmed to learn about everything from lying to platypuses.

When he learns he’s considered property, he and some fellow robots set out to find freedom. There’s a robot dog named Proto, a trash disposal bot named Trashbot, a robot girl named ADA, and a robot car named, well, Car.

This band of bots is a delight. Trashbot is constantly asking about waste it can dispose of. Proto is a wonderful blend of dog and robot. You can’t help but care about and cheer for them all.

I knew the film Blade Runner before I read this, the novel upon which it's based, but I was not prepared for the richer complexities of the novel.

My favorite parts of the novel, a bizarre new religion and the extinction of all but human and animal life, barely make it into the film. Even the androids, built to be slaves, are much more nuanced and complex than in the film. I loved the conclusion of the book, which affirms the beauty of life, both natural and mechanical.