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?

This book packs so much story into so few words!

I found the short, rhyming phrases unpredictably hilarious. I found that the length of the book made it perfect for that one last book before bedtime (I can get through it in just a couple minutes) or for newly independent readers who want to read the book themselves. The dog main character is so endearing, I fell in love with him immediately.

I enjoyed how playful and silly this book was.

I found this book to be a masterful blend of murder mystery and science fiction, taking us on a journey through a future world where robots are beginning to take over jobs. The ethical and social questions raised by the integration of robots into everyday life are more relevant today than they were when the book was first published in 1953.

I liked Asimov's insights into the effects of robotics, offering a reflection into our own world as the AI revolution unfolds. Asimov's writing style is engaging, balancing technical detail with compelling storytelling.

I enjoyed this book immensely, not just for its intriguing plot but also for its thought-provoking exploration of a future that in many ways feels increasingly plausible.

I like a challenge, so I was drawn to how this concept picture book tackles a challenging topic, making it fun and accessible. While colorful robots dance and bicker, the text asks readers to evaluate statements to determine if they’re facts or opinions. Readers learn to question information and to respect the opinions of others, skills many adults haven’t mastered. The best thing about this book is that it fosters critical thinking.

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.

The robots in this book are cute and funny. In comic book format, a red robot and a blue robot get upset with each other but still maintain their friendship. In each of the three stories, the robots deal with misunderstandings, bad advice, hurt feelings, and apologies. The book made me laugh, which is never a bad thing.

I was immediately drawn to this title because my last name starts with a “Z,” which means I’m always last. Z is an adorable young robot, who wears pajamas and a sailor’s hat. I love all the subtle, but meaningful touches in the illustrations: the partial glimpse of what Z has packed, letters on the robots, the cat that makes itself at home, and the hats that change heads. This is the kind of book I would have loved reading to my kids. With its peachy cover, this sweet story is as warm as a hug.