79 Books Like Serena

This is my candidate for the Great American Novel. Read it for its storyline and its fascinating chapters on whales. Along the way, you’ll encounter discussions about race, religion, friendship, and the virtuous life.

Some of my students ask, “Why does Melville digress so much?” My response: persist in reading this work. What at first seems extraneous becomes vital. You’ll discover a masterpiece.

Kaya Clark is the wild child I longed to be growing up. Although her family story is tragic and well-explored, how she inhabits her world of nature and allows it to inhabit her is stunning. Once again, she is a young woman who is an outcast who manages to rise above her limitations and those placed on her by society. 

Beyond the incredible storytelling and intriguing plot lines, I was mesmerized by the natural world of the North Carolina marshes, being as much a main character as Kaya herself. The intricate details of the lushness and cruelty of the natural world were incredible. In looking back at my favorite novels, one of the commonalities is the writing’s ability to come alive in my head and to take up a permanent space as much as my own lived memories. This novel is one of those.

A life in the wild entails sacrifice in addition to romance.

Few readers would think of Wallace Stegner’s 1971 Pulitzer Prize winner as a book about the mountains. Its narrator is an elderly man confined to a wheelchair who spends his days researching a biography. Yet his fascinating subject is his frontier-era grandmother, Susan Burling Ward, who gave up a life among sophisticates on the East Coast to follow her husband, a geological engineer, into the mountains of the West. There she found beauty and adventure, but also isolation from the culture and society she had left behind. Are the mountains enough to sustain us without such things?

I read this book in the year after my father died; it was one of his favorites and tied together many of his own interests: genealogy, research, books, family, and the outdoors. Angle of Repose is a long novel and the characters… show more.

Pat Conroy once said, "Great words arranged with cunning and artistry could change the perceived world of some readers." This book did that for me. Throughout the read, I felt wrapped in a velvet cloak of beauty and struggle woven by a master.   

Throughout the book, Conroy sets me in the narrator's struggle with how much someone can love their family despite the pain and anger they've caused. Especially with his mother, Lila, because he loves her as much as he hates her. It's a family epic of the highest order. I found it beautiful, brilliant, and brutal.

Michael Ondaatje’s novel is one of the most beautiful books I have ever read. It is not a study or analysis of Herodotus’ history, and yet Herodotus’ spirit infuses virtually every page. Taking place during World War II, it explores the intertwined lives of four characters, including the unnamed English patient, who has survived the shooting-down of his plane, although he is severely burned.

He has nothing with him but his annotated copy of Herodotus’ Histories. I loved Anthony Minghella’s 1996 film adaptation of the novel, and it is no criticism of the film to say that it treats only one of the many strands one finds in the book. Meditating on space, time, identity, and truth, The English Patient is a book that I think Herodotus would have loved.

I loved this novel in part because of three reasons: 1. A quote from the book: "Memory believes before knowledge remembers," 2. Faulkner's ability (in spite of a style many readers give up on) to put the reader in a particular complicated moral place as well in an emotional or psychological small piece of time. 3. Faukner's range from slap-stick to horror.

Once, a friend called me on the phone and said, "Clyde, I want to read you a quote from Light in August." Before he said another word, I said, "Memory believes before knowledge remembers." 

When talking with younger writers, sooner or later I ask them to name a writer or a book they can point to and say, “That’s the goal. That’s what I care about. That’s what I want to do.” If I asked myself this question, one of my answers would be Karen Joy Fowler’s first novel, a pitch-perfect account of 19th-century America and the mysterious title character, a weird woman whose weirdness confirms how weird everything else already is.

I love any book written by Carl Hiaasen for the simple fact that he’s not boring, and of course, his writing, though somewhat politically incorrect, makes me laugh. I can forget about everything when reading one of his books.

In this novel, there’s a twist that the bad guy doesn’t think about when he pushes his wife off a cruise ship. The book is seriously hilarious. If you want to disappear into some Floridian madness, you’ll want to read this book.

European settlers brought the ancient tradition of the forest commons, in which peasants could gather firewood, hunt small game, and cut forage for livestock regardless of what aristocrat owned the land. It was a matter of survival.

I’ve heard Appalachians be accused of anti-environmentalism, but through interviews, attending meetings and protests, and deep research, Newfont shows how people of the Blue Ridge see national forests as a commons, and have fought to preserve those forests against destructive practices such as clear-cutting and oil and gas development.

This book helped me understand that the national forests are a modern commons, providing enormous benefits like clean air and water to all of society. 

This is the granddaddy of all EMP stories—the one that arguably kicked off the entire genre and the one that got me interested in EMP disaster books. So grounded that it has been cited as a cautionary tale in Congress, the story doesn’t shy away from the grim realities of a world where technology suddenly stops working.

Retired army officer John Matherson suffered his share of hardships, but I liked the way he never lost hope or stopped fighting for his family and community.