Books like The Tracker

Two decades ago, I was preparing for my first book promotion trip to Australia and New Zealand. I asked my (Aussie) publisher to recommend two books to learn more about Australia and its history.

The first was In A Sunburned Country, by Bill Bryson, which I had heard of. The second was Cooper’s Creek, which I hadn’t. It’s a stunning, scary, edge-of-your-seat short history about an expedition in 1860 that set out from Melbourne into the vast, empty, broiling interior of the country, with the mission to find a route to the lush northern coast. Needless to say, things didn’t go as planned.

The book is taken from first-hand accounts by the explorers, and is novel-like in its dramatic twists and turns. 

This one scared me. Who wants to think about dying during a hiking trip?! Yet, while I’d never wanted to conquer Mount Everest, I did long to undertake other (less extreme) adventures.

Reading Jon Krakauer’s account of his Everest experience inspired me to continue to dream big about other outdoor excursions more suited to my personality. I credit this book as one reason I wasn’t afraid to start hiking and backpacking long-distance trails—mostly solo—when I was in my 50s.

I loved Kerr’s decision to view Berlin through the eyes of his PI Bernie Gunther because I’m seeing fascism through the eyes of a protagonist who cares little about an ideology he recognizes as flawed.

It creates an interesting tension for the character—a strategic loyalty, a quiet resistance to something he knows he can’t topple, so he remains himself—true to his own personality. I love the arc Kerr creates that had me locked into his noir world.

I vividly remember reading Native Son in high school, and to this day it remains one of my favorites (as well as one of the best novels of the 20th Century).

So, when I heard a few years ago that Richard Wright’s lost-lost novella was going to be published nearly thirty years after his death, I picked up a copy. Wow. It’s the story of a Black man, accused of a crime he didn’t commit, who evades capture by (yes, as the title says) living underground in the sewers.

The survival aspects, including his ingenuity and the break-ins into buildings and basements he plans to get supplies, are fascinating. But above all this is a story about injustice and what one person is forced to do to survive in an unequal society. A great read! 

Drag pageantry owes a lot to Miss America, especially an Atlantic City pageant called Miss’d America. Greene documents the symbiotic relationship between the Atlantic City gayborhood that spawned this contest and the Miss America Pageant, where many gay locals worked as stylists, dancers, and on production crews behind the scenes. Launched in 1993, Miss’d America unified this community in response to the AIDS crisis and offered an alternative pageant for people who’d missed the real deal. Greene couches Miss’d America in the context of Atlantic City’s fascinating drag history going back to the turn of the century (because what better runway than the Atlantic City Boardwalk?), describing, for example, men who swanned along wearing “trick pants, pale purple hose, tan shoes with two-inch soles and lavender neckties” in 1925. 

Welcome to the Neighborhood explores the complexities of forming adult friendships after moving into a new neighborhood and encountering an already established circle of friends.

I’ve felt like a fish out of water in a similar situation, and this story is eerily relatable.

I laughed and teared up too. This book gave me all the feels.

It’s an amazing debut about standing up for yourself, finding your tribe, and living a life that feels right to you. 

I couldn’t compile a list of books without including Judy Blume. In the forty years since I read my first Blume novel, a lot of things have changed, and—many have stayed the same.
Forever, first published in the mid-70s, is mildly erotic—and raw, and sensuous, and tender, and all the things that love and sex are. The sensual scenes are peppered in with great dialogue between the characters.

I especially love this book because no matter how many experiences I’ve had, I can still find a small piece of myself in protagonist Katherine—first sex, first love, first breakup, first death, and the many “firsts” that I’ve carried through my own life (divorce, pandemic, post-divorce love).

Forever may not always last, but it never fails to define chunks of our lives—always. 

We don’t have enough books that celebrate how thoughtful and patient reform strategies can pay big dividends over time.

Journalist and Public Policy Professor David Kirp embedded himself in the community of Union City, New Jersey and documented how the school district has worked to improve educational outcomes in decidedly non-flashy ways.

As Kirp writes, all too often education reform has a “flavor of the month” and faddish quality to it, trapped in seemingly endless cycles of unrealistic big bang-style reforms and inevitable disappointments.

Improbable Scholars provides a hopeful counternarrative, showing that large-scale change is possible beyond a single stand-out school or teacher.

The subtitle to Robert Sullivan’s The Meadowlands is Wilderness Adventures on the Edge of a City, and it’s Sullivan’s adventures exploring the vast New Jersey wetlands that make the book so entertaining. But Sullivan is right to use the word “wilderness” to describe the 32 square miles of swamp, landfills, and rusting industrial debris along the Hackensack River where it flows into Newark Bay just five miles from the Empire State Building in New York City. Like the Cuyahoga River in Cleveland, the Meadowlands have been abused and degraded for centuries but also show the resilience of nature and how people’s attitudes toward it have changed. “Now it is a good place to see a black-crowned night heron or a pied-bill grebe or eighteen species of ladybugs,” Sullivan writes, “even if some of the waters these creatures fly over can oftentimes be the color of antifreeze.” Sullivan’s loving description… show more.

Ironically, as a wordsmith, I absolutely adore the universal hilarity of physical comedy, an art form that transcends the need for words. So, I was immediately drawn to the slapstick antics of calamitous Trenton, NJ rookie bounty hunter Stephanie Plum. In this book, Stephanie is hot on the trail of bail jumper Kenny Mancuso. Low on expertise but learning fast, high on resilience, and despite the help she gets from friends and relatives, Stephanie is targeted by a loathsome adversary. Lula, Stephanie’s soon-to-be-sidekick, was first introduced as a minor character in the debut of the series, One for the Money.

Lula is a zaftig black ex-hooker who somehow squeezes her size 16 body into a size 10 spandex bodysuit. Lula’s wisecracking, street-smart philosophy is to always shoot first and ask questions later. In this second book of the series, Lula becomes a continuing character with her role as a file… show more.