Books like The Sat Nav Diaries — picked by fans

I'm Jackie, and I quit work in 2016 to hit the road permanently with my husband and four dogs, so road tripping is close to my heart. Initially, we were Adventure Caravanners, who aimed To Boldly Go Where No Van Has Gone Before. Now, we’re at large in a self-converted six-wheel army lorry, with Mongolia in our sights. I have published four books Fur Babies in France, Dog on the Rhine, Dogs ‘n’ Dracula, and Pups on Piste, all within one of my favourite genres; light-hearted travel memoirs. My forthcoming books will chronicle a tour of Poland in a pandemic and our new life as Trucking Idiots.

I'm Jackie, and I quit work in 2016 to hit the road permanently with my husband and four dogs, so road tripping is close to my heart. Initially, we were Adventure Caravanners, who aimed To Boldly Go Where No Van Has Gone Before. Now, we’re at large in a self-converted six-wheel army lorry, with Mongolia in our sights. I have published four books Fur Babies in France, Dog on the Rhine, Dogs ‘n’ Dracula, and Pups on Piste, all within one of my favourite genres; light-hearted travel memoirs. My forthcoming books will chronicle a tour of Poland in a pandemic and our new life as Trucking Idiots.

I'm Jackie, and I quit work in 2016 to hit the road permanently with my husband and four dogs, so road tripping is close to my heart. Initially, we were Adventure Caravanners, who aimed To Boldly Go Where No Van Has Gone Before. Now, we’re at large in a self-converted six-wheel army lorry, with Mongolia in our sights. I have published four books Fur Babies in France, Dog on the Rhine, Dogs ‘n’ Dracula, and Pups on Piste, all within one of my favourite genres; light-hearted travel memoirs. My forthcoming books will chronicle a tour of Poland in a pandemic and our new life as Trucking Idiots.

I'm Jackie, and I quit work in 2016 to hit the road permanently with my husband and four dogs, so road tripping is close to my heart. Initially, we were Adventure Caravanners, who aimed To Boldly Go Where No Van Has Gone Before. Now, we’re at large in a self-converted six-wheel army lorry, with Mongolia in our sights. I have published four books Fur Babies in France, Dog on the Rhine, Dogs ‘n’ Dracula, and Pups on Piste, all within one of my favourite genres; light-hearted travel memoirs. My forthcoming books will chronicle a tour of Poland in a pandemic and our new life as Trucking Idiots.

As an independent author, I’ve been lucky enough to find a wealth of other independent authors out there. People who are doing things that aren’t quite mainstream. Artists who are experimenting with the written word and doing truly unique things. Where the world is filled with books made for the sole purpose of being turned into movies, these authors are creating works of fiction that are suited for the written word. Masterpieces that will make you think and want to find even more new forms of fiction. Simply put, independent authors are pushing books into new realms that you simply can’t find in the mainstream market.

I suspect my passion for this topic was born when my doctor came into my C-section recovery room and uttered the words “chromosomal abnormality.” My daughter has Down syndrome, and full disclosure: I had zero interest in being a disability mom. Yet as I fell in love with this beautiful, funny, sassy girl, my whole worldview shifted. I am a far better person than I was when she entered my life. She has taught me the beauty and the blessing wrapped up in the things that first appear to be the most difficult. 

Somehow, I keep moving. I love going places and I love reading about explorers, itinerants, migrants, wanderers, and lost souls on the move. Looking for Redfeather started out as my National Novel Writing Month novel; the first draft, written in a mad dash during November 2007, when I was on the road, promoting my novel, Star-Crossed, a novel that also involves traveling. Looking for Redfeather was inspired by members of my own family—young people bent but not broken, malcontents on a mission, seeking something, but what? Published in 2013, it's a 21st century-coming-of-age road story, my tongue-in-cheek homage to Jack Kerouac, and the runaway teen still hiding out in my old soul.

I love books about good people who go through hard times and come out okay. Different, but okay. The books can be contemporary, historical, magical—I don’t care. I just want goodness to triumph—not falsely, but with truth. Nobody has a %100 easy life. I believe it’s how we make our way through our difficulties that ultimately determines who we are. When asked to give four words that describe The Fractal Melody, I say: "Families, friendship, challenges, hope." Those are the kinds of things that matter. The Rolling Stones sang, "You can’t always get what you want." I believe that you always get what you need to develop into a full-fledged human being.

Like many road warriors, Kevin Shay experienced his first taste of highway travels through his family, piling into a station wagon at a young age to journey several thousand miles in a week or so. He learned how to entertain himself for long hours without an iPod or cellphone. As a journalist, he wrote travel articles for a variety of publications, as well as a travel guidebook on North Texas. He has traveled through 48 states and more than 30 countries, logging more than 200,000 miles in a variety of vehicles and his own feet. He also produced a 19-minute documentary, Searching for Something in the Middle of Nowhere, based on the Mad, Mad Trip book.

As a child, I listened to scary Korean folklore and then devoured all of Grimm’s fairy tales with their themes of good versus evil, disguise and betrayal, sacrifice, and magic. It’s not surprising that as I grew older, my reading tastes skewed toward darkness, mystery, madness, and the uncanny. There’s a penitential aspect to gothic stories, with their superstitious moralism, often with elements of the supernatural manifesting not as monsters but restless spirits—the repressed ghosts of a location’s history. I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of a place absorbing and regurgitating the histories and sins of its occupants, whether it be a town, a house, or both.