Books like Living High — picked by fans

Feynman reinforced my belief that curiosity is a superpower.

Relentlessly asking "why" and refusing to pretend I understand something I don’t is how I’ve lived my life. I never expected a Nobel laureate in physics to champion “fun." I felt vindicated by his willingness to question assumptions, challenge conventions, and loved that he followed his interests wherever they led.

As a learning curve junkie, I found a soul-mate in his curiosity-driven discovery and love of learning. I enjoyed that he approached complex problems with humor, creativity, and a refusal to take himself too seriously. His book reinforced my belief that some of the best insights come from asking unexpected questions and exploring beyond traditional boundaries, which I captured in the Lessons Learned after each chapter of my book.

How perfect to go on a road trip with one of my favorite writers plus his gentlemanly, loveable dog!

I smile just thinking about this book. I was delighted every step of the way. I felt like I was in the passenger seat, handing biscuits to Charley, stopping to meet strangers, and ruminating on how the USA has changed over the decades.

I loved hearing his thoughts in his older, wiser years, after his great successes, but still passionate, or slyly ironic, on so many topics. I love that he’s matter-of-fact in discussing disillusionment, loneliness, racism, or anything – but he’s hopeful in the end, always.

I want to buy a stack of these and hand them out as gifts.

I first read this as a teen and fell hard for the characters that populate this story and Novalee’s life. Pregnant and abandoned, Novalee’s life is the definition of loss at the start of the story—but by the end, her life is filled with such love and richness that it’s easy to forget how she started.

She continues to experience loss as the story continues, but the strength her found family gives her demonstrates how the right people can help us grow. These characters are quirky and loving, and I can’t help but wish they were all real every time I read it.

Peter set out during the Vietnam War era to walk all the way across the United States with only a camera, a backpack, and a dog. His books, which I read as a teenager, brought fascinating strangers into my world and taught me how much those strangers can change our lives. Thanks to Peter's writing, I've always felt safe talking to strangers, and I seek them out to find out who they are and what their lives are like. 

This book tells of Indigenous resistance to white colonizers in northern Alaska and the fierceness of a mother’s love as she fights to save her daughter from kidnapping.

Lily Tuzroyluk’s voice is fresh and utterly compelling. She writes of a place she knows. This book both broke my heart and thrilled me.

I’m recommending Raven Stole the Moon for a few reasons. First, it addresses maternal guilt and loss, which are important themes in my novel. Second, it incorporates Native Alaskan mysticism, drawing on the author’s Tlingit heritage. I am always intrigued by spiritual lore, and one of my characters, who also has a Native Alaskan background, relies on nature to anticipate—or even predict—the future. And finally, I’m an overall fan of the author (who also wrote The Art of Racing in the Rain) and found the book to be entertaining—and let’s face it, entertainment is one of the key reasons we read!

I’m always comforted to read all the different mistakes Gary Paulsen made while learning to drive a dogsled; it makes me feel better about my own (sometimes quite inefficient) attempts to acquire new skills.

It doesn’t hurt that his mistakes are so damn funny—especially from the safety of the reader’s side of the book! I wouldn’t want to experience The Night of Numerous Skunks, or hallucinate from continuous cold and physical exertion, but it does make a great story.

I never dreamed about running the Iditarod—and this book didn’t change that!—but I found it fascinating to read about someone else giving that kind of crazy a shot.

Although I happen to know that poet Anne Coray intended this to be an environmentalist novel (a town threatened with doom by a giant mining operation), this beautifully written story set in the fictitious town of Lost Mountain in remote Western Alaska is an example of how Alaskans come together in the face of threats to the beauty and natural wonder of our great land. It may be about the land, but it is the cast of quirky characters that makes it human. 

The oldest of my choices, published in 1920, this classic account of an epic 2,000-mile dogsled journey in northern Alaska, written by an Episcopal missionary, still makes lists of the best books about the 49th state. A masterpiece of adventure and ethnography, with lyrical descriptions of nature, A Winter Circuit is the work of a man not only deeply and widely read about polar exploration and the history of the Far North, but also keenly aware of the social forces bearing down on Alaska’s Native peoples, and eager to support and defend their time-honed way of life.

Haines was best known as a poet, highly respected by other writers but uncompromising and without much commercial success or recognition. This collection of essays in the form of a memoir similarly makes no compromise, dispensing with plot, characters, or even a clear sense of time and geography. Instead, Haines takes the reader deep into the mind of a lone man surviving for decades in the harshest wilderness, thinking, observing, and writing—his own mind. And the writing is so strong, it turns out, that he doesn’t need those usually necessary tools of narrative he pointedly ignores. Instead, we feel the cold, see the hypnotic stars above the snow, and feel the brittle edge of aloneness. Through sheer stylistic austerity, those dark lonely nights are real.