Books like Still Points North

This book hit me as both tragic and strangely hopeful.

Chris McCandless walked into the Alaskan wilderness with little more than a backpack and a stubborn streak, and people have argued ever since: was he brave, reckless, or just plain stupid? But his compulsion isn’t as rare as we might think. In my book, Cole feels the same tug—escape the sterile shoebox apartment and the $8 lattes. This can’t be all there is.

What drew me in wasn’t the verdict but his hunger for something real—stripping away every layer of artifice most of us cling to. Krakauer tells it with empathy and curiosity, letting you wrestle with the questions instead of handing you neatly typed answers. I recommend it because it forces you to stare down your own compromises: freedom versus responsibility, idealism versus pragmatism.

Admire Chris or dismiss him, you won’t forget him. And the story lingers like a… show more.

Unlike Ivey’s other book The Snow Child, which grapples with the grief of infertility (a book I also love!), this book considers the opportunities a life without children allows for.

It opens with Lieutenant Colonel Allan Forrester as he prepares to lead an expedition into Alaska in 1885. His wife, Sophie, is an explorer in her own right and plans to accompany him—until they realize she’s pregnant and decide she has to stay behind.

Spoiler: Sophie miscarries and learns she will likely never be able to carry a baby to term. But this isn’t an endpoint for Sophie: instead, it sets her on a path toward professional and creative success, as well as love and happiness in her marriage.

We’re used to reading about how motherhood gives life meaning—I loved Ivey’s portrait of how not having kids can do the same.

Having climbed North America’s highest peak 3 times, Denali’s Howl describes a horrific situation on a mountain I’m all too familiar with.

The weather patterns, distance, and size of Denali make it an unforgiving peak to climb. I couldn’t put this book down as Hall recounted the dire scenario the climbers went through resulting in tragedy.

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!

Born and raised in remote bush Alaska, Kanter’s hypnotizing writing will take you with him across the remote tundra of his home territory as he hunts and lives among the great herds of caribou. Each short chapter is like a prose poem, beautifully written and evocative of the people and the place. A glimpse into historical, almost prehistorical, life in Alaska. 

Don Reardon crafts a tale of utter isolation and deprivation. Set in a remote Alaskan village that is suddenly and remorselessly struck with a virulent and deadly strain of influenza or some other similar malady. Quarantined from the rest of Alaska and the world, most of the inhabitants die from the illness leaving the survivors the grim, brutal task of surviving by whatever means possible. With no food coming into the village and winter firmly set upon them, living or dying becomes a question of what people are willing to do for and to one another.

This is an inspiring memoir depicting life in the arctic, living the traditional substance way of the Inupiat people. Kanter’s writing is top notch and he describes the arctic life as only one who has truly lived it can. I’ve traveled and worked in the land he loves and calls home. He nails the brutality and the rawness and the beauty and the wonder of that vast and harsh land. This book is personal and emotional and depicts a lifestyle, a land, and a culture that’s not often honestly portrayed in literature. I devoured this book and was left wanting more. I’ve met Seth and he is a great guy and a hell of a writer, in my opinion.

Sherry Simpson’s adventures in Alaska’s wilds are less “extreme” than Jill Fredston’s, but her writing about her experiences is even more thought-provoking. I love her notion of “wayfinding”–of relying on one’s own navigational and cognitive skills to explore nature or ideas. Equally intriguing is her concept of ground truthing–walking the land or going through a process oneself to really “get it.” She contrasts the understanding that personal exploration cultivates with the information maps provide. No comparison!

These ideas raise the question: how well can we comprehend the experiences and realities of others if we haven’t ground-truthed them? Clearly, having immersed oneself in a foreign culture can foster empathy, but I want to believe that, short of that, with goodwill, one can recognize others’ humanity.

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.

City girl Calla reunites with the Alaskan bush pilot father she’s never really known following his cancer diagnosis. I love this classic fish-out-of-water story, set in rural Alaska, where Calla falls for the rugged, remote landscape and a gruff, bearded yeti “sky cowboy” named Jonah who flies with her dad.

This book had me kicking my feet, laughing, and then fully sobbing. While it is one of my favorite enemies-to-lovers romances, with incredible banter and sexual tension, the realistic last-chance repair of Calla’s relationship with her father is just as compelling.

The two storylines together create the perfect blend of emotional depth, sizzling chemistry, and significant character growth. This is a deeply cathartic, feel-good romance.