Books like Open Season — picked by fans

No book captures more clearly and compellingly the horrific, inspiring, and vital histories and stories of Native Americans than Brown’s.

I love the ways that Brown offers a profoundly new perspective on the American West, on the foundational myths that too often limit the way we see ourselves and the realities with which we must grapple instead, and on Indigenous communities as an essential part of the American story at every stage.

Revisionist Westerns are one of my very favorite genres, and this is the best one I know.  

As I indicated earlier, I am a Lee Child superfan. I’ve read all his original books. A thick (and expensive) biography. A long essay he wrote on heroism. All his short stories. You get the idea. So it was fun to re-read this book, his first.

It wasn’t what I remembered, that’s for sure! Yes, the action scenes are vivid and instructive (Child writes about the utility of a headbutt versus the risk of breaking your hand with a punch), and the action is what I remember most. But there’s more to this book than fights: there’s a major romance, which the author writes with gusto and in detail, heavy on feelings, not on private parts; the prose is better than solid, with imagery that really makes it come alive; and the story is plausible and tightly woven, with plenty of surprises. 

This book introduced me to the gritty world of Los Angeles police detective Harry Bosch. I love Bosch’s smarts and toughness, yet beneath his hard exterior lurks a sensitive heart. He is fond of saying, “Everybody counts, or nobody counts,” and he means it.

Whether the victim is a rich businessman or an impoverished drug addict, Bosch pursues justice with the tenacity of a bulldog. Not only that, he makes tough choices with an ironclad sense of right and wrong. After reading it, I devoured everything Michael Connelly has written. I’m that fan who pre-orders his next book as soon as the announcement hits my inbox.

I was living in Madrid, Spain, when one of my friends and fellow English-language teachers, Heather, nudged me and said, “James, you have to read this.”

I was in my “James only reads highbrow literature” era, so I told her that the cover looked too pulpy (yes, I was guilty of judging a book by its cover). Thankfully, my respect for Heather forced me to overlook my biases and give Pillars a shot. I’m so glad I did.

The prose style is simple and accessible (obeying Animal Farm author George Orwell’s advice to write prose as transparent as a “windowpane”). And that’s good, because the content draws you in completely.

A village in Medieval England decides to build a cathedral. The characters range from evil knights to noble monks to savvy businesswomen to scheming clerics. The world is rich with detail and the pages are addicting, almost turning themselves. It’s… show more.

In The Gray Man, a highly skilled, former CIA operative tries to rescue a colleague and his family while various teams of elite assassins try to stop him however they can.

The Gray Man – AKA Court Gentry or Sierra Six – doesn’t follow anybody’s orders, even those of the most powerful institutions on the planet. Though rebellious, he has morals and only applies his skillset for good.

My favorite part of this book were the action scenes. I liked how big they were, but also the variety of arenas, weapons, and opponents. Also, the Gray Man takes a serious beating through the chapters. Because he’s hurt, but still kicking, the fights progressively get more challenging for him, and more dramatic.

I was interested that the book was set in Mexico and with a female protagonist, so I was happy to give a new-to-me author a chance.

From the very first description of the detectives’ office in Acapulco police station, there was a level of detail that made me think, ‘this author is writing from real life’. Carmen Amato was a CIA analyst who lived in Mexico for many years. She knows what she’s talking about, from police corruption to cartel crime, and the blatant misogyny of people who should be on the same side. 

I had no idea where the story was going; nothing was telegraphed, and it was as raw and real as you could wish.

Beautifully written, I wanted more, more, more. I chomped through the next 8 books in the series, and eagerly await book 10.

I love listening to Evanovich’s hilarious tales of Stephanie Plum’s misadventures as a wannabe bail/bondsman. These books are my wife’s and my favorite distraction on long road trips. While her mysteries may be thin, her characters are so real and her stories so crazy, I didn’t miss the whodunit. I included her in this August list because she captures the seedy side of Trenton, New Jersey, with amazing clarity, even while laughing at the place.

I picture myself riding in one of her cars—which she destroys regularly—along with her friend, the former ho, LuLu, hair flowing in the stinky wind blowing off deserted warehouses, sleezy girl joints and questionable car repair shops. This is the first in a series that is now at 31.

I would suggest anything by Hillerman, but you might as well start with the first in the series. Without overtly advocating for activism to protect nature, Hillerman renders the desert southwest in such achingly beautiful detail that one can’t help but want to fight to protect it. In fact, Hillerman is where I got my start in reading/writing environmental thrillers.

I love Western movies and TV shows. I don’t read as much in the genre unless we’re talking about modern Westerns. Craig Johnson’s Longmire series ranks among the best. As strong a protagonist as Sheriff Walt Longmire is, I find his sidekick Henry Standing Bear to be the real star.

The Cheyenne Nation, as Walt likes to call him, is as indispensable to the stories as Watson is to Sherlock Holmes. And the setting of the Wyoming Rockies makes me long for a road trip. With its strong characters and satisfying plot twists, this book drew me into the Longmire series from the first page.

I have to confess I love both mysteries and historical fiction, and when I discovered Benn’s series, I fell in love. This is the twelveth entry in his “Billy Boyle” series. Like Follett, Benn has the ability to transport me to a different time and place, in this case, 1945 “neutral” Switzerland.

Billy is there to investigate—before the war, he was a detective from Boston—money laundering by the Swiss. Billy narrowly escapes death, his plane being shot down, and, through Benn’s skillful writing, I experienced it all. But when Billy Boyle stumbles upon a train carrying Jews to a concentration camp, Benn captured the poignant scene so vividly that I found myself weeping for the victims, screaming for help inside the cattle cars as they passed.