Books like The Sovereignty and Goodness of God — picked by fans

When Caleb’s Crossing came out I couldn’t wait to read it. Not only was it written by one of my favorite authors, it was inspired by a true story and set in the same place and time period as the novel I was working on. Brooks’ depiction of the love between a Puritan minister’s daughter and the son of a Wampanoag leader is fraught with tension as two very different cultures collide. The novel brings to life the forces driving the conflict through the characters of Bethia and Caleb as they struggle to navigate a perilous time and the looming prospect of war.

Philbrick had me from his opening sentence: “We all want to know how it was in the beginning.” He makes a familiar history fresh, asking how fifty years of peace at Plymouth Rock between the Mayflower Pilgrims and local Wampanoags could end in war.

Within this overarching theme, it’s the small details I remember, such as how Philbrick interviewed Captain Alan Villiers who sailed a 1957 replica of the Mayflower. In a violent transatlantic storm, Villiers tested a Jacobean sailing technique that hadn’t been tried for centuries, furling the sails and securing the helm into the wind. Its boxy shape kept Mayflower II perfectly balanced, bobbing upright in the gale. With accounts like this, I felt Philbrick had done his research and gave real credibility to his description of the voyage and its aftermath.

When I was researching my novel, I read many books on King Philip’s War, and Jill Lepore’s The Name of War is the best by far. Written in a readable prose style, and filled with detailed descriptions of events, the book riveted me from the first page. I also found myself returning to it time after time for clarification and specific information. I love the way it takes a deep dive into the origins and unfolding of the hostilities as well as looking at its long-lasting aftermath. It also includes a compelling account of Mary Rowlandson’s captivity and release as well as tracing James Printer’s activities.

Our Beloved Kin is a unique account of King Philip’s War that centers on the history of Native resistance and their experience of the conflict. Drawing on early documents and information often overlooked in previous studies, the author, a member of the Missisquoi Band of Abenaki, presents an in-depth chronicle of the war and the events leading up to it. I wish this book had been in print when I was researching my book. While it wouldn’t have changed the basic arc of the novel, it would have given me a more complete understanding of James Printer’s perspective.

Ok, this isn’t actually a historical novel, but it was a bestseller when it came out back in 1682 and in some ways it does read like fiction. The story of a Puritan settler and her three children who were captured by Narragansett Indians during King Phillip’s War, Rowlandson’s account, judged by contemporary mores, is both racist and religiously bigoted. Still, it provides a rare first-hand rendering of the Puritan experience of a central truth of 17th century America: the collision of two radically distinct societies and the personal fallout resulting from that collision. As such it’s an invaluable historical document—though one best considered alongside other, less publicized primary accounts, which tell us that many seventeenth-century English captives, especially younger ones, were reluctant to return to the English settlements because of the freedom and ease they found in Indian society.

This is based on an actual captive woman in the early Colonial years. Since the topic was the subject of my thesis (Captive Or Captivated) I was enthralled in the way that the author brought the true story to life as fiction. Great historical accuracy and detail as well as a story sure to be remembered for a very long time.

Understandably even grumpier than Twain, for the most part, these Americans were held captive by Barbary “pirates” in North Africa and lived to tell about it. Their stories really got me interested in America’s interaction with North Africa on the southern edge of the Mediterranean. 

They provide lots of drama, with ship captures, dark dungeons, descriptions of their Muslim captors, daily life in North Africa, horrific torture, and more. Needless to say, some of it has to be taken with a grain of salt, but there’s a good reason many of these accounts were bestsellers when originally published.

The Patient is a very quick read and easy to get sucked into, questioning everything you might know or think. I love how it was told through a series of online posts during which the narrator, a young psychiatrist, slowly reveals his story, never quite knowing if what he experienced was real or if he was going crazy.

I love how the sci-fi aspect took it out of our real world just enough to feel fantastical but not too much to be unrealistic or like a classic high-fantasy novel. The pace was fantastic, the twists and reveals were perfectly placed, and it was just the right amount of horror. I appreciate any book that is unexpected and leaves me thinking about it for days after I’m finished.

Harriette Merrifield Forbes pioneered the field of American gravestone studies. Her admirable study has separate chapters on several artisans, including the 17th and 18th-century stonecutters of Boston, the Lamsons of Charlestown, the Fosters of Dorchester, the stonecutters of Groton and Harvard, and the “Thistle-Carver” of Tatnuck. It also has chapters on the gravestones of Rhode Island and Connecticut. 

Forbes initiated real interest in this area of research. I found it astounding that she could have accomplished so much in the 1920s—before the introduction of modern battery-powered flash systems (which I relied on so often in highlighting shallow carvings and lettering)—and almost singlehandedly lit the fire of inquiry in so many of us who followed her model. She was also attentive to the human side of this craft, with many interesting observations on the stonecutters’ intentions and skills.

I love the strong, authentic female voice and the sheer craft of Shreve’s writing style. Honestly, I felt like I’d just eaten a piece of cake when I finished reading this book the first time, and I’ve definitely gone back for seconds and thirds. Each time I’ve reread this book, I find another beautiful facet to appreciate.

The pacing of the storytelling is exceptional, and Shreve doesn’t flinch from describing visceral scenes that are essential to the story. I love how much you need all five of your senses to read this story. This book was my first introduction to this writer, and I’ve read everything of hers that I can get my hands on.