100 Books Like The Animal Dialogues

I’ve loved both history and fantasy since I was a child. The first book I can remember reading at all was The Hobbit. The first historical novel I fell in love with was The Killer Angels. I visited the battlefield of Gettysburg with my family, and currently teach the movie every year to my high school film class. (I’ve never visited Middle Earth, but plan to visit New Zealand as soon as possible). I’ve been reading both genres ever since—and quite by accident my first novel contains a mix of both genres.

I have zero expertise in the climbing world, but I do love to hike and trek in the mountains and just generally be outside in the wilderness or on the water. I’ve hiked up Mount Washington and in New Hampshire, lots of trails in Yosemite and Oregon, and farther afield in Japan, Patagonia, and Nepal. One of the things I love most is how everything falls away when you’re hiking, for example. The calls and emails you’ve yet to return, bills you haven’t paid, issues with your husband or neighbor or a painful conversation with your mom, none of it matters. It’s just you and whatever you’re surrounded by in the moment.

I’m a nature writer living in the magical realism of the American Southwest. The seminal environmentalist Aldo Leopold said, “There are some who can live without wild animals and some who cannot.” I am the latter. In rural New Mexico, I have looked up from my writing to see so many animals pass by my window. Fox. Bobcat. Javelina. Deer. Once—a mountain lion! These are all gifts. I’ve also learned to enjoy the tracks and signs left by wild animals, their presence still palpable and resonant. For me, recognizing the endearingly small print of a spotted skunk or pocket mouse is deeply satisfying—a cure for all kinds of existential angst. 

I’m a nature writer living in the magical realism of the American Southwest. The seminal environmentalist Aldo Leopold said, “There are some who can live without wild animals and some who cannot.” I am the latter. In rural New Mexico, I have looked up from my writing to see so many animals pass by my window. Fox. Bobcat. Javelina. Deer. Once—a mountain lion! These are all gifts. I’ve also learned to enjoy the tracks and signs left by wild animals, their presence still palpable and resonant. For me, recognizing the endearingly small print of a spotted skunk or pocket mouse is deeply satisfying—a cure for all kinds of existential angst. 

As an undergraduate History student, I was told by one of my professors that I thought too much like an anthropologist; as a postgraduate Anthropology student, I was told by another professor that I wrote too much like a historian! At that point, I finally gave up and turned to journalism and fiction writing…though my love for history figures largely in much of what I continue to write and read today.

I am now considered by many as the expert on creating allergy-free and allergy-friendly gardens and landscapes. I have lectured on the subject all across the US and Canada, and also in Israel, Ireland, the United Kingdom, New Zealand, and Australia. For 30+ years now I’ve been researching the connections between urban landscaping and allergies and asthma. My articles have appeared in dozens of fine publications, including The New York Times, The London Times, The Guardian, The Los Angeles Times, Atlas Obscura, Scientific American, Der Spiegel, and The New Scientist. I have owned two nurseries and taught horticulture for twenty years. 

As an author who is also a patent attorney and an engineer, I often deal with projects that are the closest thing to science fiction. That is one of the driving forces behind my urge to write science fiction. However, I very much prefer realistic stories that may potentially come true to hard science fiction with intergalactic travel, robots all over, and time machines (although I have written space opera and a few other hardcore SF tales, and must admit having had fun with them). Still, I like realistic science fiction much more. It leaves more room for character development, and I find myself engrossed in it more easily.

My life is divided into two parts: before I left the cult I was involved in during my 20s, and after. Leaving the cult created a reckoning in my life unlike anything I’ve experienced before or since. It was both the worst thing that had ever happened to me, and the best. As a result, I connect deeply with others’ stories of grief, loss, and the challenging times in life that make us. As an author, I have carried these themes into my mystery novels. I hope you experience as much resonance from the books on this list as I have.

Mark Derr is an independent scholar and author of three books on dogs, a biography of Davy Crockett, and a social and environmental history of Florida, as well as a co-author with photographer Cameron Davidson of Over Florida. His work has appeared in the Atlantic Monthly, Scientific American, Audubon, Smithsonian, Natural History, The New York Times, and other publications. His poems have appeared in Kansas Quarterly, Partisan Review, and other journals. He has had a lifelong relationship with dogs.  Having known and mourned a number of outstanding dogs, he has told friends, "They are always with me in my thoughts, and I miss them very much." He and his wife currently share their domicile with a Jack Russell Terrier and a Miami Beach street cat.

In the summer of 1995, I was a graduate student at the University of Florida conducting archaeological investigations in Barbados. One July morning, I was called to look at some skeletal remains that workers had uncovered at a construction site in the capital city of Bridgetown. What the workers had uncovered was an unmarked and long-forgotten burial ground for enslaved peoples of the city in the early colonial days. With help from the laborers, we carefully excavated and recorded the cemetery. An older gentleman among the crowd brought a bottle of rum and poured it into the excavation trenches, asking that the spirits of those buried there “rest in peace.”