100 Books Like Rabbit Hill

I have been a schoolteacher for over thirty years, the last ten or so in school leadership positions. In that time, I have learned that all good teaching is storytelling, and that all good storytelling is teaching, and that the most important thing we all need to learn, is to think. We need to think about courage, friendship, value, music, dance, and nature, and what is important to us, and yet thinking is hard. That is why stories, from the most ancient of fairy tales and myths to modern-day fantasy and science-fiction, are so important. They can set us to thinking without us thinking that we are thinking. 

Fantasy has been at the heart of our friendship for as long as we can remember. We are Adelina Cortese Pons and Valentina Branca, co-authors of our book, listed below, and our journey as writers began when we were eleven, sharing a single copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, reading it aloud, taking turns with each chapter. That love for fantasy only grew stronger over the years—through travels, studies in International Relations, and countless late-night writing sessions. Today, despite living an ocean apart, we still meet every Friday to write together, crafting new worlds and unforgettable stories because, for us, fantasy is more than a genre—it’s home.

I have often spoken with the animals that I meet: from migrating ducks to street cats, woodchucks to chickadees. Mostly quietly—and always as if they not only could hear and understand, but also could reply. As our children grew, the replies became louder and more insistent. When our daughter was old enough to feel fearful of travel—particularly the crossing of open water in small boats—I began to tell her stories featuring these talking animals. Because the animals also were sometimes afraid, the stories helped to distract her from the perils of our own adventures and then, eventually, to enjoy them as well.

I was a goofy-looking kid growing up.  My ears were so big that someone once said I didn’t need an alarm clock because I could hear the sun coming up. On top of that, I was also very average at everything I tried.  However, I found that being funny made people like me. I also realized that, as long as God loved me and had a plan for me, I could be a superhero despite being average at everything. So when Focus on the Family asked me to start writing, I knew exactly what I’d write about…me! Average Boy!  

I’m a dog nut who loves reflecting on the powerful life lessons we can learn as we watch our furry best friends age happily and gratefully by our sides. I’ve also been working as a journalist for more than 30 years now — so that makes me one of the oldest dogs in my own newsroom. I’m a senior writer and editor for the website of NBC’s TODAY show, and the My Old Dog book stemmed from a viral TODAY.com story I wrote about photographer Lori Fusaro’s efforts to change people’s perceptions of older shelter animals. Writing that story was one of the best things that ever happened to me!

I’m secretly eight years old inside. I love fascinating animal and science stuff, especially cool, weird, and gross facts. Readers of my children’s books see this passion in action. My best-selling and award-winning nonfiction animal books have sold more than 3 million copies worldwide since 2000. I focus particularly on reaching reluctant, struggling, and English-language-learning readers by packing my books with lots of action and high-interest topics to keep them turning pages. I’m recommending these top-five narrative nonfiction animal books for adults because these authors have influenced my research and thinking—and because they’re terrific stories!

I retired from the Metropolitan Police Department in Washington, DC, as a detective assigned to the Major Crimes Unit, but I’ve always been a writer at heart and an avid reader. I graduated from California State University in Long Beach, CA, with a major in Film. I am the author of six crime fiction books, three of which involve retired detective turned PI Frank Marr. This trilogy was critically acclaimed. 

I was a happy child until I went to school. When my teacher turned her back, I ran home. My mom sent me back. The umbilical cord broken, I held a grudge. That enmity remained until my ninth-grade English teacher read us Richard Brautigan’s post-apocalyptic, proto-hippie fantasy In Watermelon Sugar. There was much to imagine: a multicolored sun, an infinite garbage dump, and mathematical, parent-eating tigers. Like the narrator, I wanted to live in a shack, not have a regular name, and hook up with a proto-hippie, hot cake-making artist girlfriend who made “a long and slow love” possible. Since then, I have devoured fiction, poetry, art, film, you name it. 

I never had a particular interest in birds until I heard about David Wingate and the cahow; I’m just a reporter who was smitten by a compelling story. I often write about science and the environment, as well as travel and other topics, for publications including the Boston Globe, Archaeology, and Harvard Medicine, and while working on Rare Birds I got hooked on these extraordinary creatures and the iconoclastic obsessives who have become their stewards in the Anthropocene era. You don’t have to care about birds to love their stories — but in the end, you will.

I have always been fascinated by statistics (I’m a statistician by profession), and anything that tells a story of actual people and events has always captured my imagination. I have a particular affection for the quirky and offbeat, something that illustrates catastrophic failure, lack of common sense, a misplaced sense of entitlement and people who repeatedly tried but always fell short. I have a passion for black humour as it helps me to realise that, no matter how dark things look in my own life, there are others who have it much worse.