Books like The Crime of Sheila McGough — picked by fans

I’ve read this book multiple times over various stages of my life, and I find it funnier and funnier (and more and more impressive) the older I get.

This novel has so much going on: yes, technically it’s a Western, but it’s also a crime novel about the corrosive power of revenge, a buddy comedy about a fourteen-year-old girl and an over-the-hill U.S. Marshal, an oddball historical novel, and a meditation on youth and morality.

And more things, probably, that I’ll spot next time I inevitably pick it up again.

I love the opening of this novel: an offhand-feeling anecdote about Chili Palmer, the central character, getting his jacket stolen from a restaurant in Miami Beach. It feels breezy and inconsequential, but it does so much work to set the tone, establish the stakes, and introduce key characters.

I’m also a sucker for a fish-out-of-water comedy, although maybe this book is the opposite of that: tough-guy loan shark Chili Palmer falls in with a group of hapless Hollywood types and ends up thriving through the novel’s sometimes violent, sometimes funny twists and turns.

Colson Whitehead always impresses me with his ability to make potentially tired genre elements feel fresh and vital.

Honestly, I enjoy even a workmanlike heist-gone-wrong story, but this one is firing on all cylinders. There’s a world-weary sense of humor suffusing all of it, coupled with complex, compelling characters that make this an irresistible read for me. 

I don’t want to describe this book as cozy, because it’s not, at least not in the “cozy mystery” sense of “yes, murders happen, but we’re not too troubled by them as readers.”

Truly terrible things happen to many characters in this book, and Atkinson really makes us feel them. Somehow, though, this book (and the subsequent entries in the Jackson Brodie series) is such a comfort read for me. I think a big part of it is the humanistic decency that informs the universe of the novel.

Also, Jackson Brodie is an outstanding straight man for the alternately grim and funny situations he finds himself in.

This book tells of the shocking axe murder of a white woman in rural Virginia in 1895, and the trials of three Black women who were accused of the crime. Given the time and place, you would not expect things to go well for those Black defendants. But as with the murder drama that I describe in my book, many things about this case defy expectations. A surprising group of people, Black and white, worked together to achieve some measure of justice. This book definitely served as a model for me as I was writing my own. And the author’s attention to detail, with every fact carefully documented, truly makes it a marvel of historical research. 

Many authors who write about international criminal justice forget that those who are the subject of criminal investigations have their own interests and goals in how they respond. The states in which these investigations take place try to use the courts and tribunals for their own purposes, like neutralizing opposition or presenting themselves as good international citizens.

In this book, Clark reports on his decade-long investigation into the effect of the ICC on politics in African states, especially the DRC and Uganda. I love how he draws on a variety of sources and hundreds of interviews to produce a detailed and nuanced story. 

The story of a horrific miscarriage of justice in rural Canada in 1959. Fourteen-year-old Steven Truscott was charged with the rape and murder of a 12-year-old schoolmate, mostly because he was the last person seen with the victim, riding a bike along a country road. Today, modern crime analysts would look at this case and see immediately that the likely perpetrator was an adult pedophile, not an adolescent boy. But at the time, local law enforcement jumped to the wrong conclusion. Steven was convicted and sentenced to death by hanging, and although the sentence was commuted on humanitarian grounds, he spent ten years in prison. It took more than four decades of work by attorneys, and a few diligent journalists, to clear Steven’s name. This book tells the whole tale.

I love this book because it reminds me how much of criminal justice history ultimately comes down to ordinary people refusing to give up.

Gideon was not powerful, wealthy, educated, or politically connected. Yet his handwritten petition transformed the constitutional right to counsel in America. As both a lawyer and teacher, I find this story endlessly inspiring because it shows how fragile and unfinished our legal protections really are.

I have recommended this book to students for years because it captures why the right to counsel matters in human terms rather than abstract doctrine.

This book covers how junk science leads to wrongful convictions. In this instance, it is bite analysis. The two men at the center of this story are Steven Hayne, the cadaver King, and Michael West, the Country Dentist.

The author focuses on one case, but these two men are responsible for several questionable convictions based solely on their testimony. As bad as these two are, you will be equally outraged by the incompetent judges, jurors, prosecutors, and defense attorneys that populate the stories of wrongful convictions covered in this book.

Forman’s book is a must-read to learn why the War on Crime was not merely the work of one party or one racial group in society. Indeed, a number of people of color, including black mayors and black chiefs of police, strongly supported tough-on-crime measures.

The book raises the question of what it will take to reverse the trends of mass incarceration, given these realities.