Christy, Associate Editor

We’re over halfway through 2019, and somehow the best is still yet to come. Here are some amazing memoirs you’ll fall for (sorry) this fall.


Think Black

Think Black by Clyde W. Ford
Amistad | September 17

John Stanley Ford was proud of his position as the first black systems engineer at IBM, His son, Clyde, on the other hand, resisted following the path his father had paved. In Think Black, Clyde blends personal experience with technological and racial history to reveal how these things influenced one another. This wide-ranging memoir includes an exploration of IBM’s ties to oppressive regimes even as it honors the author’s father’s dreams and contributions to the digital age.


How to Be a Family by Dan Kois
Little, Brown | September 17

In 2017, Dan Kois and his wife asked themselves, “Could the two of us set aside our relentless quest to make sure our children had every material and educational advantage, and instead focus for twelve months on caring for all our hearts and souls?” They packed up their two daughters and all their belongings, ditched their suburban Washington, D.C., life and spent a year living in New Zealand, the Netherlands, Costa Rica and Kansas. With Kois at the helm as a candid, comic tour guide, How To Be a Family is definitely a trip worth taking.


Motherhood So White

Motherhood So White by Nefertiti Austin
Sourcebooks | September 24

As a single African American woman, Nefertiti Austin decided to adopt a black baby boy out of the foster-care system—but institutionalized racism blocked her at every turn. In this unflinching account of her parenting journey, she explores the history of adoption among black Americans, faces off against stereotypes of single, black motherhood and examines the question: What is it like to be a black mother in a world where the face of motherhood is overwhelmingly white?


Toil & Trouble by Augusten Burroughs
St. Martin’s | October 1

Just when you thought Augusten Burroughs had exhausted all of his life’s most entertaining material, he goes and writes a memoir about being a witch. In Toil & Trouble, Burroughs reveals that he is a witch, his mother was a witch, and he in fact comes from a long line of witches. He may not believe in God or the Devil, but after a lifetime of spooky coincidences, uncanny knowledge and mysterious intuitions, he certainly believes in witchcraft. This is his first memoir in five years, and it’s coming out just in time to be the perfect October read.


Here We Are

Here We Are by Aarti Namdev Shahani
Celadon | October 1

NPR correspondent Namdev Shahani’s story fulfills what most call the American Dream. Her parents emigrated from India to America (via Casablanca) over 40 years ago, full of hope that this new country would offer their growing family more than their war-torn home. But when Shahani’s father accidentally becomes entangled with the California drug cartel, his life becomes mired in legal and immigration woes. Shahani’s raw and engaging debut recounts her family’s gut-wrenching struggle to immigrate despite a broken system.


Commute by Erin Williams
Abrams | October 8

Commute is an intimate, powerful and beautifully drawn account of a single day in author-illustrator Erin Williams’ life. On her commute to and from work in New York, strangers spark memories of her life before recovery: risky sexual encounters, nights of being blackout drunk, mornings of guilt and shame. The gap between consent and sexual assault is wide and blurry, and Williams explores this space with equal parts tenderness and ruthlessness. This book should be required reading for absolutely everyone.


How We Fight for Our Lives

How We Fight for Our Lives by Saeed Jones
Simon & Schuster | October 8

This debut memoir by poet Saeed Jones will break your heart and put it back together over and over and over. Jones is a black, gay man from the South, and How We Fight for Our Lives is a commentary on race and queer identity, power and vulnerability, and how relationships can make and break us along the way—all told with the ease and control of a master storyteller.


Unfollow by Megan Phelps-Roper
FSG | October 8

Megan Phelps-Roper grew up in a family famous for its zealous intolerance and reprehensible pickets signs. Except, from her perspective as a child, her family was full of safe, loving people, and the rest of the world was intolerant toward them. This memoir about growing up, coming out of denial and leaving the Westboro Baptist Church is written with such heart-wrenching tenderness and narrative control, you’ll hang on every word even if you already know how it ends.


Wild Game by Adrienne Brodeur
HMH | October 15

When Adrienne Brodeur was 14, her mother, Malabar, woke her up in the middle of the night. “Ben Souther just kissed me,” Malabar told Adrienne, referring to a friend of the family who’d been visiting their house in Cape Cod. In the years that followed, Malabar relied on Adrienne to keep this affair a secret—from Malabar’s husband and family, from Ben’s wife and family—with calamitous results for everyone involved. Wild Game is Brodeur’s unbelievable memoir of the toll this secret took on her life, and believe me—if you don’t read this one, you will be out of the loop.


Running With Sherman by Christopher McDougall
Knopf | October 15

When a neighbor asked Christopher McDougall (Born to Run) to make room on his farm for a donkey that had been rescued from an animal hoarder, he thought, Why not? But Sherman the donkey was in worse shape than he could have possibly imagined. To heal Sherman’s heart as well as his body, McDougall decided to teach him to run. Together they began training for the World Championship Pack Burro Race in Colorado, kicking off a journey full of heart and humor that will touch the animal-ambivalent as much as the animal-lover.


For Small Creatures Such as We

For Small Creatures Such as We by Sasha Sagan
Putnam | October 22

Sasha Sagan, daughter of Carl Sagan and Ann Druyan, grew up believing that the world is full of beauty and wonder—and that science, more than faith, fable or fairy tale, helps us see this beauty. In For Small Creatures Such as We, Sagan is a competent guide who shows us how to marvel. Part memoir, part guidebook, part social history, the book is divided by topic—from weddings to death to sex—as Sagan uncovers the meaning in our everyday rhythms and pays tribute to her father, her newborn daughter, her spouse and the natural world.


Ordinary Girls by Jaquira Díaz
Algonquin | October 29

While growing up in housing projects in Puerto Rico and Miami Beach, Jaquira Díaz longed for a sense of home. She found community and support among friends as her mother battled schizophrenia and her family fractured, but ultimately her life was upended by violence. From her own struggles with depression and sexual assault to Puerto Rico’s history of colonialism, every page of Ordinary Girls vibrates with music and lyricism. Díaz writes with raw and refreshing honesty, triumphantly mapping a way out of despair toward love and hope.


In the Dream House

In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado
Graywolf | November 5

Carmen Maria Machado’s debut short story collection, Her Body and Other Parties, blew readers’ expectations of the genre to bits, and this memoir promises to do the same. In the Dream House recounts Machado’s entanglement with one magnetic but explosive woman. Weaving in and out of personal, reported and speculative vignettes, she looks back at her religious adolescence, unpacks the stereotype of lesbian relationships as safe and utopian and explores the history and reality of abuse in queer relationships.

We’re over halfway through 2019, and somehow the best is still yet to come. Here are some amazing memoirs you’ll fall for (sorry) this fall.


Think Black

Think Black by Clyde W. Ford
Amistad | September…

After I completed my list of the best nonfiction books of 2019, I couldn’t help but notice how serious they all were. Nonfiction as a genre has a way of raising the stakes—such that the books that stand apart at the end of the year do so because they’re Important, with a capital I. They give a voice to someone who hasn’t had a voice. They highlight an issue that hasn’t been adequately studied. They change the world.

But if I’m being honest, many of the books I loved the most in 2019 had ever so slightly lower stakes. I loved these books because they were entertaining, or inspiring, or they left me feeling warmer than when I began. I believe books like that are utterly essential, too, so I’ve rounded up 20 of my favorites.

For anyone who could use a respite from our hard and disheartening world, I recommend picking up one of these books, having a laugh, having some fun and coming away refreshed.


20. If You Lived Here You’d Be Home by Now by Christopher Ingraham

When Christopher Ingraham (or as you may know him, the author of this epic cricket thread on Twitter) worked for The Washington Post, he wrote an article claiming that Red Lake Falls, Minnesota, was the ugliest place in America. But when he visited Red Lake Falls and actually experienced it for himself, he preferred it so strongly to his stressful life in D.C. that he moved there with his whole family. If city livin’ has got you down, let yourself escape into If You Lived Here You’d Be Home by Now and live vicariously through one man who successfully left it all behind.
 

19. You Look Like a Thing and I Love You by Janelle Shane

After I read Janelle Shane’s blog post about AI-generated cat names, I knew I would follow her to the ends of the earth if I had to. Luckily, she wrote a book that made it easy to indulge in her brilliance and hilarity, so I just read You Look Like a Thing and I Love You instead. Every year, there are dozens of books that come out about AI—why it’s scary, why it’s going to destroy human civilization, why it’s our worst sci-fi fever dream come to life. Shane’s book is none of those things and therefore the only AI book I could ever truly love. She assures us that AI is really good at some things and really, really terrible at others—and, as it turns out, the latter is far more entertaining.
 

18. Because Internet by Gretchen McCulloch

If you’ve ever felt like you needed an Internet-to-English dictionary to interpret something your nephew posted on Snapchat, you are not alone. And if this sort of cross-cultural experience has ever made you lament the inevitable decline of our language’s structural integrity, Gretchen McCulloch is here to soothe your fears. This guide to the internet’s linguistic influence is a rollicking good time. It’s a wacky yet intellectual, enlightening and ultimately well-reasoned argument for why future humans won’t communicate solely by emojis and GIFs.
 

17. Medieval Bodies by Jack Hartnell

If the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the Middle Ages is Monty Python, Jack Hartnell’s Medieval Bodies will satisfy you for two reasons. First, its downright tender portrayal of medieval people’s humanity will banish your pitiful, cartoonish conceptions of the Middle Ages and help collapse the great distance between then and now. Second, it will amuse you with plenty of dirty illustrations from medieval manuscripts that absolutely live up to Monty Python’s comic standards. (Two words: penis tree.) This book is a great, weird and strangely heartening read.
 

16. Aloha Rodeo by David Wolman and Julian Smith

If your perception of cowboy culture has largely been shaped by Louis L’Amour, Lonesome Dove and John Wayne, hold onto your hats. Aloha Rodeo takes us even farther west than the Rio Grande—like, way farther west—to Hawaii. This stranger-than-fiction tale of Hawaiian paniolos (cowboys) is chock-full of little-known history, fascinating stories and narrative drama. There are ranchers, warriors, showmen, cowgirls, missionaries, immigrants, royalty and, of course, bull-riding cowboys with flowers perched on the brims of their ten-gallon hats. What more could you possibly want?
 

15. For Small Creatures Such as We by Sasha Sagan

This gorgeous collection of essays from Sasha Sagan, daughter of astronomer Carl Sagan and producer Ann Druyan, is a wonder. This book will dazzle and comfort you no matter what your relationship to meaning-making in this vast, lonely universe is—but especially for readers who are longing for ritual in the absence of religion, Sagan’s book is a holy-feeling balm.
 

14. Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb

Maybe you should talk to someone . . . about how good this book is! (Sorry.) A psychotherapist’s life falls apart. She gets her own therapist. While falling apart, she continues seeing her own therapy patients. And she writes it all down for our great benefit. It’s memoir, it’s self-help, it’s a funny, wise, insightful emotional quest. Maybe You Should Talk to Someone will make you wish your therapist were as smart and cool as Lori Gottlieb.
 

13. How to Be a Family by Dan Kois

Not all running-away-from-it-all books are created equal, so if you’re looking to avoid the riffraff and zero in on the good stuff, How to Be a Family is choice as. (That’s New Zealand for “really good.”) Dan Kois, his wife and their two daughters escaped their overbusy lives in Arlington, Virginia, and spent a year abroad—in New Zealand, the Netherlands, Costa Rica and Kansas. Kois is a witty, self-deprecating tour guide, and the ups and downs his family experiences along the way will make your heart swell.
 

12. The Book of Eating by Adam Platt

The way Adam Platt writes about food made me say, “Oh, this is why people love to read about food.” The Book of Eating is alternatingly farcical, profound, adventurous, gossipy and nourishing—as varied and unexpected as a really good meal. And, of course, that’s to say nothing of the actual really good meals that Platt describes with absolute precision and delight. This is a memoir that truly satisfies.
 

11. Haben: The Deafblind Woman Who Conquered Harvard Law by Haben Girma

If Haben Girma wasn’t already accomplished enough as a Harvard Law graduate, a celebrated disability rights advocate and an interesting, funny woman, now she’s the author of this brilliant memoir, too. Reading about Girma’s curiosity, daring and tenacity as a deafblind woman in a sighted, hearing world is definitely inspiring—but more than that, this book harnasses the power of storytelling in ways that are mesmerizing to experience. Plus, Haben shines an urgent spotlight on our need for more accessible schools and a more accessible world.
 

10. The Body by Bill Bryson

If Bill Bryson does’t actually know everything, he’s just about got me fooled. The Body is yet another example of Bryson’s singular talent for bringing levity to a complex topic, making it more accessible, more interesting and more fun to read about. So no matter how poorly you did in your high school anatomy class, consider giving the subject another chance. If you have a body, I guarantee this book will interest you.
 

9. The Life and Afterlife of Harry Houdini by Joe Posnanski

I don’t know what I expected when I picked up this book about Harry Houdini, but it certainly wasn’t the wild and crazy tale that Joe Posnanski has spun for us. Houdini was an interesting figure in his own right—but his greatest magic trick was obscuring every aspect of his life and identity, making it nearly impossible to write a biography of the guy. However, Posnanski is less interested in teasing apart fable from fact and more interested in exploring why Houdini endures in our collective consciousness with such potency. The result is somehow both befuddling and electrifying.
 

8. The Ghosts of Eden Park by Karen Abbott

Karen Abbott has written a story as dramatic and sensational as any novel—except that every bit of it is painstakingly true. The Ghosts of Eden Park is equal parts absolute feat and absolute romp. There’s murder, betrayal, political intrigue, witty repartee (every word of which was taken from a documented source). I spent this whole book oscillating between marveling at what Abbott had created and gasping at the extravagant tale she tells.
 

7. I Miss You When I Blink by Mary Laura Philpott

Reading I Miss You When I Blink feels like curling up with your wiser, funnier friend, toe to toe on the couch, while she tells you a story. This friend is transparent about her disappointments, honest about her foibles and charming to boot. If you’ve ever felt lost, or self-critical, or hungry for more of something, Mary Laura Philpott’s collection of essays will break your heart open with understanding and laughter.
 

6. Greek to Me by Mary Norris

Mary Norris, also known as the Comma Queen, is sort of my idol. A grammar virtuoso, with a storied career editing some of the greatest writers of the last 40 years, and she studied Greek?? (I minored in Koine Greek in college.) It’s true that this book feels like it was written specifically for me, but I assure you that people with fewer than 18 credit hours of Greek under their belt will also find plenty to love here. Norris is a sharp-witted, word-perfect narrator, and her wells of knowledge are as deep as they are lyrical. Anybody with a reverence for words will bow down to this book.
 

5. Sea People by Christina Thompson

Have you ever wondered how native Hawaiians made it to Hawaii? The nearest non-Hawaiian land mass is hundreds of miles away (and it’s a tiny island), and the nearest continental land mass is nearly 2,000 miles away. The Pacific Ocean is enormous and scattered with islands that are at once sparse, remote and miniscule. With those odds, how did the Pacific Islands ever become populated in the first place, and who were the amazing people who managed to do it? Enter: Christina Thompson’s Sea People, a wide-reaching and totally immersive history of Oceania. If you’re ready to move beyond tiki bars and hula skirts, to understand Pacific Islanders as the complex and cunning people they are, this book is the perfect place to start.
 

4. Slime by Ruth Kassinger

I knew from the minute I saw this book’s cover that it was going to be good. You just don’t call a book Slime if you can’t deliver content that’s as unexpected, audacious and ridiculous as that title. Happily, Ruth Kassinger checks all of these boxes and then some, while making an awfully compelling case for what we might otherwise think of as mere pond scum. Plus, she does it with the sort of gentle, poetic prose that’ll make you wish you could hang out with her in her garden. This book is as delightful as it is important—and honestly, if someone can make algae interesting, don’t you think they deserve your attention?
 

3. A Polar Affair by Lloyd Spencer Davis

What can I say? A book about penguin sex has no business being this funny or this good, yet somehow, A Polar Affair is. Lloyd Spencer Davis is one of the world’s leading penguin experts and Antarctic explorers, and his book tells the story of the early 20th-century zoologist who discovered the sometimes-scandalous love lives of penguins. The fact that this book exists at all is a miracle, and I cannot recommend it highly enough.
 

2. Will My Cat Eat My Eyeballs? by Caitlin Doughty

Caitlin Doughty has spent her entire career making death fun and educational (stay with me, folks), but now she’s managed to make it kid-friendly, too. Will My Cat Eat My Eyeballs? is collection of real-life death-related questions from real-life children, which Doughty has lovingly and meticulously answered in this volume. With every ounce of straight-talking spunk one could muster for this topic, Doughty delivers a surprisingly heart-warming read.
 

1. Cosy by Laura Weir

After I finished this book, I came to work and screamed about how much I loved it. Then I kept screaming until the other editors read it. Then they read it and also screamed about loving it, and long story short, now we’re starting a Cosy Cult with this book as our foundational scripture. Anyone who prizes warmth, comfort, contentedness, stew, wool socks, heavy blankets, rain on the windowsill, soft lighting, movies that make you feel like you’re glowing from the inside, walks down scenic country lanes, crackling orange fires or tea—this book is a love letter straight to you.

Nonfiction as a genre has a way of raising the stakes. They’re Important, with a capital I. But if I’m being honest, many of the books I loved the most in 2019 had ever so slightly lower stakes. I loved these books because they were entertaining, or inspiring, or they left me feeling warmer than when I began. I believe books like that are important, too, so I’ve rounded up 20 of my favorites.

The beginning of the year can be a bit bleak—between the short days, cold nights and muted gray sky. Luckily, these 25 nonfiction books will soon add a little color to your world. If you can manage to leave your blanket cocoon for a few moments, go ahead and mark your calendar, update your wish list and get excited for these incredible 2020 reads.


The Magical Language of Others by E.J. Koh
Tin House | January 7

When E.J. Koh is 14, her father lands a three-year contract with a company in Seoul. Her mother goes with him to Korea, leaving Koh and her older brother essentially on their own in California. An engaging, literary take on language and its role in the diaspora of a scattered family, this memoir speaks from—and to—the heart.


Imperfect Union by Steve Inskeep 
Penguin Press | January 14

Yes, that Steve Inskeep—host of NPR’s “Morning Edition.” All the things readers like in an American tale are present in his newest book: frontier adventure, fame and a conflict that’s cast as tragic and romantic.


Uncanny Valley by Anna Wiener
MCD | January 14

In her debut memoir, Anna Wiener (now a writer for The New Yorker) draws on her anxiety-addled experiences working at several tech startups during her mid-20s. This may be a defining memoir of the 2020s, and it’s one that will send a massive chill down your spine.


Children of the Land by Marcelo Hernandez Castillo
Harper | January 28

Poet Marcelo Hernandez Castillo has written a gripping and unforgettable debut memoir about growing up undocumented in America. From the terrors of ICE to the multiplied pressures immigrants feel to blend in, this book offers an invaluable perspective from a stirringly lyrical voice.


You Never Forget Your First by Alexis Coe
Viking | February 4

Alexis Coe’s new book is being billed as a George Washington biography for “those who thought presidential biographies were just for dads”—and as a certified non-dad, I have to agree. Reading American history has never struck such a perfect balance of irreverent, funny and informative, and it probably won’t again—at least not until Coe’s next book.


When Time Stopped by Ariana Neumann
Scribner | February 4

Ariana Neumann dives deep into hidden family history in a breathtaking memoir. She especially investigates the history of her father, whom she discovers was a Jewish refugee who fled the Nazis during World War II, leaving his home in Czechoslovakia and taking on a non-Jewish identity in the heart of Berlin, Germany, where he learned to hide in plain sight.


The Escape Artist by Helen Fremont
Gallery | February 11

One would be hard-pressed to find a family without secrets, but the secrets in Helen Fremont’s family were especially heavy to bear. After being legally disavowed from her father’s will, Fremont found the freedom to untangle the individual threads in her knotted family for the first time—and the result is illuminating, smart and darkly funny.


The Splendid and the Vile by Erik Larson
Crown | February 25

In his new book, the beloved author of The Devil in the White City tackles a slightly less obscure subject: Winston Churchill. In Larson’s trademark narrative style, he gives readers a lively, fresh and compulsively readable portrait of Churchill’s first year in office.


Hood Feminism by Mikki Kendall
Viking | February 25

Mikki Kendall’s critique of mainstream feminism, especially its preference for white women, is beautifully written, impeccably reasoned and searing. While many contemporary feminists champion the privileged few—bemoaning the lack of female CEOs, for example—Kendall reframes issues like intimate partner violence, poverty, medical care and food insecurity as feminist issues that must be addressed before women and women of color can have a chance at liberation.


Minor Feelings by Cathy Park Hong
One World | February 25

Poet and essayist Cathy Park Hong offers an electrifying reckoning with this cultural criticism/memoir hybrid. How do you describe the Asian American condition? Does such a thing exist? In a series of incredible and incredibly complex essays, Hong puts the lens of her life on history, culture, mental health, art, language and race, to devastating effect.


Nobody Will Tell You This but Me by Bess Kalb
Knopf | March 17

Bess Kalb’s debut memoir has an interesting conceit: The whole thing is written by Bess but told in the voice of her beloved late grandmother, Bobby. It’s warm, hilarious and wildly original—not to mention quirky, spirited, tender, complex and heart-wrenching. It nearly defies description, except to say that it’s very good.


The Lady’s Handbook for Her Mysterious Illness by Sarah Ramey
Doubleday | March 17

How do you take topics as heavy as chronic illness, debilitating pain and medical misogyny and package them in a way that makes people want to keep reading? I don’t rightly know, but Sarah Ramey clearly does. This book about women with mysterious illnesses not being taken seriously by medical professionals had me laughing out loud from the very first line.


Wow, No Thank You. by Samantha Irby
Vintage | March 31

Continuing her tradition of laugh-out-loud-until-you-choke-on-your-own-spit essay collections—and her tradition of book covers with cute animals on them—Samantha Irby adds another essential volume to her repertoire. No one does self-deprecating humor like Irby, and Wow, No Thank You. may be her funniest book yet.


I Don’t Want to Die Poor by Michael Arceneaux
Atria | April 7

This new collection of essays from the author of I Can’t Date Jesus is, on the one hand, a bleakly transparent look at what it’s like to chase your dream when you’re at an economic disadvantage from the start. On the other hand, it’s a chuckle-inducing and relatable read that makes student debt as fun as it’s ever going to get.


Conditional Citizens by Laila Lalami
Pantheon | April 28

Conditional Citizens is novelist Laila Lalami’s first nonfiction book, a deeply personal exploration of who has access to the liberties and protections of American citizenship and who is held at arm’s length. Threading Lalami’s personal experience as a Moroccan immigrant through the eye of historical research and reporting, Conditional Citizens paints a scathing portrait of the treatment of nonwhite Americans.


My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me by Jason Rosenthal
Harper | April 21

If you haven’t yet read (and subsequently cried over) Amy Krouse Rosenthal’s Modern Love essay “You May Want to Marry My Husband,” as well as her widower Jason Rosenthal’s response, “My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me,” grab a box of tissues and do so now. When you’re through, mark your calendar for the release of Jason Rosenthal’s poignant memoir about carrying on after losing the love of his life.


Stray by Stephanie Danler
Knopf | May 5

Sweetbitter author Stephanie Danler pivots to nonfiction with her debut memoir, Stray. As Danler grapples with childhood wounds still reverberating in adulthood—a mother disabled by alcoholism, an absent father addicted to meth—she returns to her native California to confront past pain and free herself to follow a different path from her parents.

 

 

 


Keep Moving by Maggie Smith
One Signal | May 5

When poet Maggie Smith started writing daily posts online following her divorce, readers flocked to her vulnerability, candidness and wisdom. Her newest book gathers together a bouquet of quotes and essays about how to engage loss with creativity, strength and hope.


Resistance by Tori Amos
Atria | May 5

Singer-songwriter Tori Amos has been a politically engaged artist for the duration of her career, and Resistance shares her activist wisdom with fans and newcomers alike. Part musical autobiography and part actionable advice, this book provides hot-to-the-touch insight for anyone who’s ready to fight.


Nothing Is Wrong and Here Is Why by Alexandra Petri
Norton | June 2

Anyone who reads Alexandra Petri’s column at The Washington Post already knows why we’d be anticipating her newest book. If you laugh to keep from crying in this age of unending political, social and economic anxiety, give Petri a chance to make you laugh full stop. Her absurdist take on the otherwise horrific realities of our world is a welcome respite from the usual dose of dread.


Memorial Drive by Natasha Trethewey
Ecco | July 28

Poet Laureate Natasha Trethewey has authored and edited multiple award-winning poetry collections, and now she’s releasing her first memoir. After Trethewey’s stepfather shot and killed her mother when Trethewey was only 19, she was suddenly alone and adrift. Her memoir tells the tragic, moving story of her journey out of the pit of grief and into her role as one of America’s most celebrated artists.


Vesper Flights by Helen Macdonald
Grove | August 11

H Is for Hawk author Helen Macdonald will be releasing her second book this year, a collection of essays about the natural world and beyond—from migraines to science fiction to meditations on the wisdom of animals.


Can’t Even by Anne Helen Petersen
HMH | September 22

Anne Helen Petersen’s viral Buzzfeed article marked Millennials as “the burnout generation.” Now her book-length exploration of this topic covers the unchecked capitalism, changing labor laws and performative pressures of the internet that created this generation’s uniquely burdened relationship with work.


The Smallest Lights in the Universe by Sara Seager
Random House | August 18

After reading Chris Jones’ profile of Sara Seager in New York Times Magazine, I couldn’t wait to learn more about the fascinating MIT astrophysicist who’s searching for other planets capable of sustaining life. Her debut memoir explores this quest to find small lights in the huge, dark universe as she simultaneously navigates the darkness of grief after becoming a widow at age 40.

These 25 most anticipated nonfiction books will add a little color to your world in 2020.

Though 2020 has been a year of distance among humans, it’s encouraged many people to get closer to nature than ever before. From the vast firmament of the stars, to the tiny ventricles of a honeybee heart, these eight books by brilliant female science and nature writers rove the universe and remind us of its wildest and most wonderous parts.


A Honeybee Heart Has Five Openings by Helen Jukes

A Honeybee Heart Has Five Openings by Helen Jukes

The hard-driving, unforgiving corporate culture of Helen Jukes' work left her drained and brittle. As Jukes began keeping honeybees, she settled into a routine and became part of the communal organism of the hive. Full of descriptions of Jukes' rain-soaked garden in Oxford, England, and curious expeditions into humans' relationships with bees throughout history, this is the sort of book that will make your jaw unclench as you read it.

 

The Language of Butterflies by Wendy Williams

The Language of Butterflies by Wendy Williams

Science journalist Wendy Williams turns her attention to humanity’s long-standing love of all things Lepidoptera in The Langauge of Butterflies. Rigorous research doesn't come at the expense of good old-fashioned storytelling here. Williams' portraits of characters from the world of entomology are as colorful as the butterflies that intrigue and inspire them, and conservation is crucial to every fascinating tale.

 

Fathoms by Rebecca Giggs

Fathoms by Rebecca Giggs

Whale eyes, whale tongues, whale noises, whale skin: Rebecca Giggs explores the contours of humanity’s obsession with whales over time in terrific specificity. Her investigation is historical, cultural, biological and personal. The book's scope is as broad as a humpback's flukes—complete with tales of greed, wonder, desperation, nostalgia and obsession—but Fathoms truly shines in the careful details of Giggs' poetic, luminous prose.

 

The Last Stargazers by Emily Levesque

The Last Stargazers by Emily Levesque

Emily Levesque, an astronomy professor at the University of Washington, trains her gaze on humans’ fascination with the stars in this engaging look at astronomy. It's an incredibly precise and technical field, but the professional astronomers Levesque interviews can almost always link their desire to explore the universe to a vivid moment of awe and wonder. Immensely informative and inspiring, The Last Stargazers will transfer these specialists' wonder straight to you.

 

Horse Crazy by Sarah Maslin Nir

Horse Crazy by Sarah Maslin Nir

In Horse Crazy, Sarah Maslin Nir explores why she and so many others share an equine obsession. Personal accounts of her own love affair with horses are interwined with narratives of other intriguing horse-themed cultural rituals. Along the way, her writing is energetic, exquisite and enthralling enough to appeal to both horse fanatics and more casual readers.

 

Two Trees Make a Forest by Jessica J. Lee

Two Trees Make a Forest by Jessica J. Lee

In Taiwan, where she is both stranger and descendant, Jessica J. Lee embarks on a quest to discover and reconcile her family’s past with her need to claim an ancestral home. Using her skills as an environmental historian, she evocatively describes the many species she finds as she hikes and bikes through the mountainous spine of the country, including red and yellow cedars that are so huge that just two of them look and feel like a whole forest.

 

World of Wonders by Aimee Nezhukumatathil

World of Wonders by Aimee Nezhukumatathil

Aimee Nezhukumatathil’s poetry often praises the earth and its bounty, and World of Wonders, her first nonfiction work, expands her reflections into sparkling essays that explore the moments throughout her life when nature has sheltered her—from the sweltering Mississippi sun or the microagressions of her white peers. Catalpa trees, peacocks and fireflies connect Nezhukumatathil’s present to her past, and each one glints with sustenance, beauty and a lesson for anyone who pays attention.

 

Vesper Flights by Helen Macdonald

Vesper Flights by Helen Macdonald

Helen Macdonald’s bite-size essays offer meditations on home, placelessness, the refugee crisis and climate change, all projected through animals who appear in dual form: as their biological selves, examined, explained and marveled at; and their ancient, archetypal manifestations. In a time when humans think of animals as mere creatures, Vesper Fligts espouses a more holistic approach to connecting with animals—one that marries natural science to the heartfelt stirrings that humans have long experienced in a furred or feathered presence.

Though 2020 has been a year of distance among humans, it’s encouraged many people to get closer to nature than ever before. From the vast firmament of the stars, to the tiny ventricles of a honeybee heart, these eight books by brilliant female science and nature writers…

From knockout debuts to new offerings from old favorites, this is already shaping up to be a standout year for nonfiction books. Here are the ones we at BookPage are most eager to get our hands on in 2021.


The Night Lake by Liz Tichenor
Counterpoint | January 5

This debut memoir from an Episcopal priest offers a surprising take on grief, faith and loss. The book opens on the night Tichenor’s infant son died suddenly due to an undiagnosed medical condition and then charts her course through the tangled undergrowth of bereavement in the months that followed. The Night Lake is an excellent example of making something beautiful out of unimaginable pain.


Drug Use for Grown-Ups by Carl L. Hart
Penguin Press | January 12

In Drug Use for Grown-Ups, a professor of psychology shares his research into the effects of recreational drugs, and the results are unexpected and enlightening. This book tackles the war on drugs, the stigma of being a drug user and the pursuit of happiness in the United States, and readers' assumptions about drugs will certainly be challenged.


The Listening Path by Julia Cameron
St. Martin's Essentials | January 12

Back in the early 1990s, Julia Cameron's book The Artist’s Way changed the creativity how-to scene forever with the practice of “morning pages,” a daily stream-of-consciousness writing ritual. Morning pages and the six-week program framework from Cameron’s earlier book are also at the heart of her new one, The Listening Path, which focuses on tuning out cluttering noise and redirecting attention constructively to release creative blocks. 


A Swim in a Pond in the Rain by George Saunders
Random House | January 12

Saunders combines his expertise as a novelist, essayist and teacher in his newest book, which adapts one of his most popular classes at Syracuse University, where he's a professor. A Swim in a Pond in the Rain parses Russian short stories in translation to better understand how masters of the form such as Anton Chekhov and Nikolai Gogol built their work from the ground up. It's a must-read for creative writers and deep readers alike.


Let Me Tell You What I Mean by Joan Didion
Knopf | January 26

What more do I need to say besides "new Joan Didion"? Let Me Tell You What I Mean gathers 12 previously uncollected short pieces mostly written for magazines in the 1960s and ’70s, with a few dating to the tail end of the last century. It's impossible to resist even the smallest crumb from the table of this prose master, but luckily her newest collection offers plenty to chew on.


Four Hundred Souls edited by Ibram X. Kendi & Keisha N. Blain
One World | February 2

Kendi and Blain have compiled an extraordinary history of African America, bringing together 90 contributors who cover 400 years through short bursts of history, poetry, reporting and personal essay. The list of voices includes Nikole Hannah-Jones, Clint Smith, Jericho Brown, Donika Kelly and many more, and the resulting chorus is resounding.


Tom Stoppard by Hermione Lee
Knopf | February 23

If you're looking for a biography that's substantial, entertaining and satisfying, the latest from Lee about legendary playwright and screenwriter Tom Stoppard checks all the boxes. From his childhood in Czechoslovakia, Singapore and India to his award-winning work on Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead and Shakespeare in Love, this book chronicles Stoppard's exceptional life in tantalizing detail.


Dusk, Night, Dawn by Anne Lamott
Riverhead | March 2

In difficult times, is there a more soothing voice than Lamott's? Her latest book on the trickiness of faith and hope is chock-full of her trademark wit, at once self-deprecating and self-aggrandizing. And this is her first book since getting married in 2019, so those honest insights about choosing love amid anxiety are sure to shine even brighter.


Last Call by Elon Green
Celadon | March 9

True crime too often focuses on the “bad guys,” as if repeatedly mulling over their motives may eventually explain evil. In Last Call, Green instead foregrounds the Last Call Killer's known victims, who were gay men in New York City during the decade after the AIDS crisis. Green's excellent treatment of an underreported topic makes this a book true crime readers won't want to miss.


Festival Days by Jo Ann Beard
Little, Brown | March 16

It's been 23 years since her last work of nonfiction and 10 years since her last novel, so it makes perfect sense that Beard's fans are scrambling to get their hands on Festival Days. Beard is known as a nonfiction essayist, but her work often reads like suspenseful fiction, and this collection of nine essays about brushes and meetings with death continues that formidable track record.


The Beauty of Living Twice by Sharon Stone
Knopf | March 30

When Stone experienced a brain hemorrhage in 2001, she was at the top of her acting game and her entire life had to be recalibrated. The Beauty of Living Twice takes readers along the road to recuperation and tells the intimate story of Stone's struggles as she recovered not just her health and career but also her life as a mother, humanitarian and survivor.


Girlhood by Melissa Febos
Bloomsbury | March 30

Febos has earned buckets of acclaim for her previous works, Whip Smart and Abandon Me, and her latest memoir promises to raise the bar even higher. With a combination of personal writing and reporting, Girlhood examines the messages Febos and other women received growing up—messages meant to limit their autonomy and authentic expression—and reimagines what it means to be female in a world hostile to your survival.


A Little Devil in America by Hanif Abdurraqib
Random House | March 30

Abdurraqib's poetry, cultural criticism and music journalism—such as his 2019 book Go Ahead in the Rain, which was long-listed for a National Book Award—all culminate beautifully in his latest work. A Little Devil in America examines the influence of Black performance on culture and history, in prose that's by turns lyrical, sharp and joyful.


Broken (in the best way possible) by Jenny Lawson
Holt | April 6

Fans of Lawson's previous books know this beloved funny woman has her share of troubles as well as her share of laughs. In Broken (in the best way possible), Lawson shares her experience with transcranial magnetic stimulation, an experimental treatment for depression, while finding the absurdity and humor in every shadowy corner of her life.


My Broken Language by Quiara Alegría Hudes
One World | April 6

Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Hudes adds a stunning memoir to her repertoire with My Broken Language. Growing up in Philadelphia with her extended Puerto Rican family, Hudes struggled to find her mooring amid contrasting cultures, whispered stories and buried secrets. Her coming-of-age and coming-of-artist story is beautifully, rhythmically told.


We Are Each Other's Harvest by Natalie Baszile
Amistad | April 6

As recently as the 1920s, there were over 1 million Black farmers in the United States. Today there are just 45,000. In We Are Each Other's Harvest, Baszile digs into the stories of those who remain as she shares the agricultural history she discovered while researching her novel, Queen Sugar. With poetry, images, profiles and research, Baszile creates a beautiful portrait of Black Americans' connection to the earth.


Empire of Pain by Patrick Radden Keefe
Doubleday | April 13

Following Keefe's 2019 stunner Say NothingEmpire of Pain will recount three generations of the Sackler family, one of the richest and most philanthropic families in the world, whose fortune, it later emerged, came from making and marketing Oxycontin. Keefe is a master of narrative reporting, and his next book will surely give readers who love in-depth nonfiction a thrill.


Leaving Isn't the Hardest Thing by Lauren Hough
Vintage | April 13

Hough has had multiple experiences that are outside the scope of an average life. She grew up in a cult, traveled the world as an airman for the U.S. Air Force, survived a hate crime, worked as a bouncer and a cable guy—and now she's publishing a book about it all. This is a killer debut, as riveting for its content as it is for its captivating style.


Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner
Knopf | April 20

Fans of Zauner's music via her band Japanese Breakfast already know her capacity for insight and artistry, but now memoir readers can get in on the action, too. Crying in H Mart, which shares its title with Zauner's 2018 New Yorker essay, navigates memory, heritage, loss, identity, regret, family and food with heartbreaking tenderness. 


World Travel by Anthony Bourdain & Laurie Woolever
Ecco | April 20

Avid travelers and fans of Bourdain will find both practical globe-trotting advice and heartfelt tributes to the late chef and author in this guide to seeing the world as Bourdain did. In addition to introductions to some of Tony's favorite destinations across the world, presented in his own words, there are also essays and tips from Bourdain's family and friends throughout. Once it's safe to travel again, this will be the guide to have by your side.


Goodbye, Again by Johnny Sun
Harper Perennial | April 20

Sun's follow-up to Everyone's a Aliebn When Ur a Aliebn Too cuts a little closer to the bone, with personal essays about mental health, loneliness, productivity and belonging—leavened with humor and illustrations throughout, of course. The publisher's description also hints at "a recipe for scrambled eggs that might make you cry," which on its own is enough reason for me to pick it up.


White Magic by Elissa Washuta
Tin House | April 27

This collection of connected essays beautifully showcases Washuta's range as a writer. Addiction, Native spiritual traditions, romance, witchcraft and video games all have a part to play in White Magic, and I can't wait to see how Washuta uses her intellect and talent to string these and other subjects together.


The Secret to Superhuman Strength by Alison Bechdel
HMH | May 4

In her first graphic memoir since 2012, Fun Home author and cartoonist Bechdel tackles her relationship to exercise—the fads, the equipment, the ever-elusive promise of better, newer, more. It’s a playful premise, but in true Bechdel style, there’s likely to be plenty of insight and introspection brewing just below the surface.


How the Word Is Passed by Clint Smith
Little, Brown | June 1

Smith's reporting at The Atlantic and his poetry have already distinguished him as a writer to watch, and his debut nonfiction book will surely attract even more eyes. In it, Smith travels to different monuments and landmarks across the U.S. and analyzes the ways in which they either honestly represent America as a country that exploited enslaved people or obscure that legacy and warp our true history.


Somebody's Daughter by Ashley C. Ford
Flatiron | June 1

Ford is already widely admired for her journalism, personal writing and podcasting, but Somebody’s Daughter will be her first book. Growing up in Indiana, Ford felt isolated and misunderstood. She longed to reunite with her incarcerated father, but when she found out what crime sent him to prison, everything changed. If you put just one book on your TBR list this summer, Somebody's Daughter is it.


Dear Senthuran by Akwaeke Emezi
Riverhead | June 8

Emezi published Freshwater in 2018, Pet in 2019 and The Death of Vivek Oji in 2020, all to significant critical acclaim—but they aren't showing signs of stopping, because in 2021 Emezi will publish their first work of nonfiction, a memoir in letters to friends and family about the author's art, spirituality and identity.


Saved by a Song by Mary Gauthier
St. Martin's | July 6

Iconic singer-songwriter Gauthier will publish her first book this year, an inspiring memoir that weaves together her personal story of addiction, recovery and finding her way back to music with musings on the nature of art and songwriting.


On Freedom by Maggie Nelson
Graywolf | September 7

Nelson, award-winning poet and author of The Argonauts, returns to nonfiction with a collection of essays meditating on the role that freedom plays in our society in the realms of art, sex, drugs and climate. Likely to be heady and brilliant, this work will serve as a touchstone for thoughtful readers to return to again and again in tumultuous times.


Fuzz by Mary Roach
Norton | September 14

Whether you're already a die-hard Roach fan or just now dipping your toe into the kooky world of science that her books reveal, Fuzz should not be skipped. Essentially, it will ask and answer the question: What happens when animals break the law? I, for one, am dying to find out.


South to America by Imani Perry
Ecco | September 28

Perry returns to her native region in South to Freedom, debunking the idea that the South's problems are insulated and isolated and arguing instead that as goes the South, so goes the nation. Part travelogue and part history, this will be an important book for 2021 and beyond.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Discover all of BookPage’s most anticipated books of 2021.

From knockout debuts to new offerings from old favorites, this is already shaping up to be a standout year for nonfiction books. Here are the ones we at BookPage are most eager to get our hands on in 2021.

To celebrate Memoir March, we spoke to the authors of this spring’s most exciting memoirs about their research processes, writing roadblocks and biggest fears as they put their personal stories out into the world. Elizabeth Miki Brina shares some of the joys and difficulties behind her book, Speak, Okinawa, about whether love can heal a family traumatized by racism and colonization.


What do you love most about your book?
I love how my book aims to capture more than my life and my story—or rather, how my life and my story encompass so many other lives and stories, including my mother’s story, my father’s story, the history of the people of Okinawa. Through writing this book, I love how I was able to realize the connectedness of it all, to understand myself and my place in this world, the events that had to transpire, the hardships that had to be endured and overcome in order for me to exist.

What kind of reader do you think will most appreciate or enjoy your book?
Readers who are children of immigrants. Readers who are biracial or have multicultural heritage. Readers who were once estranged from their mothers or fathers and therefore from their origins. Readers who want to witness this experience.

What is one thing in your book that’s true that readers may have a hard time believing?
I hope readers don’t have a hard time believing anything—but what was hard for me to believe is how I really didn’t know myself for most of my life. I avoided and denied such important aspects of my identity for so long, and that took a huge toll on me and greatly hindered my ability to love and be loved. Still does. I grew up trying to believe that race, family history and cultural history were inconsequential. I’m glad I don’t believe that anymore.


ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our starred review of Speak, Okinawa.


What resistance did you face while writing this book?
I got nothing but support and encouragement from others as I was writing this book. The resistance I faced was from myself: deciding what personal details to share or not share, deciding what was mine or not mine to tell, and knowing that these decisions would affect and alter the narrative as well as the reader’s perception of and attitude toward the people being portrayed. That is a great deal of responsibility I didn’t want to abuse. Kept me awake some nights.

Was there anything that surprised you as you wrote?
I was surprised by how much I remembered, and how much my perspective on memories shifted as I was writing, rewriting and revising. There were so many revelations I could only have reached by putting memories on paper, seeing them reflected back at me, trying to view them objectively and finding the precise words to describe them.

Is there anything in your book that you’re nervous for people to read?
I’m definitely nervous for my parents to read the book. I’m nervous for them to read their secrets. I hope they forgive me.

“In a memoir, I can be judged and evaluated and hopefully redeemed as me, a real person, not a fictional character.”

How do you feel now that you’ve put this story to the page?
I feel very scraped out but also fuller and more complete. I feel relief.

What’s one way that your book is better as a memoir than it would have been as a novel?
In a memoir, I can claim my experiences and observations as my own. I can be judged and evaluated and hopefully redeemed as me, a real person, not a fictional character.

Many people think writing memoir means you just write from memory and don’t have to do research, but obviously that’s not true. What is the most interesting thing you had to research in order to write this book?
Everything I researched was interesting to me. The history of Okinawa, which I hadn’t learned before writing the book and which helped me better understand myself and my mother. The life of my mother, which I hadn’t learned about before writing the book either. Our conservations, asking and answering questions, helped heal our relationship and brought us closer.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Discover more great memoirs this Memoir March.

 

Author photo credit: Thad Lee

Elizabeth Miki Brina shares some of the joys and difficulties behind her memoir, Speak, Okinawa, about whether love can heal a family traumatized by racism and colonization.

To celebrate Memoir March, we spoke to the authors of this spring’s most exciting memoirs about their research processes, writing roadblocks and biggest fears as they put their personal stories out into the world. Courtney Zoffness shares some of the joys and difficulties behind her book, Spilt Milk, a collection of essays that plaits her life experiences with larger observations about society.


What do you love most about your book?
Its candor and depth. I worked hard to turn issues over and around so I could consider their many sides and angles, whether a student’s sexual come-on or “nature vs. nurture” or my friend’s job as a gestational surrogate.

What kind of reader do you think will most appreciate or enjoy your book? 
Imperfect parents and children of imperfect parents. Anyone who suffers from anxiety or spiritual unease, particularly of the Jewish variety. Anyone who contemplates empathy and how to cultivate it.

What is one thing in your book that’s true that readers may have a hard time believing?
That I committed a felony at age 16. 


ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our starred review of Spilt Milk.


What resistance did you face while writing this book?
I encountered several publishing professionals who wanted to turn this book into something else, including a straightforward memoir or a book about intergenerational anxiety. I was also advised to abandon the project—to focus on placing the individual essays in magazines so I might work on a more marketable book. Essay collections are hard to sell.

Was there anything that surprised you as you wrote?
I was surprised by the ways my preoccupations kept resurfacing in different ways. These essays explore a range of subjects, from preteen heartbreak to a ghostwriting gig for a Syrian refugee, but when I revisited the experiences years later, I saw them all through the lens of motherhood. It’s a thread that binds Spilt Milk.

Is there anything in your book that you’re nervous for people to read?
No. It took me years to get comfortable enough to write the vulnerable material, so I’ve made peace with publishing it. It does feel important to remind readers that memoirists have fallible memories, and also that my life and history consist of far more than what’s represented here.

"I did the most research on topics I thought I understood. The more questions I asked, the less I realized I knew."

How do you feel now that you’ve put these essays to the page?
Delighted and relieved and proud.

What's one way that your book is better as a collection of essays than it would have been as a novel or collection of short stories?
Readers often come to short stories and novels with expectations: conflict, plot, characterization, resolution. Meanwhile, the word essay still evokes the five-paragraph rectangles we all wrote in high school—even though the form can be wildly imaginative! I was interested in challenging fixed expectations of the form. I had a lot of fun playing with structure and style and language.

Many people think writing memoir means you just write from memory and don’t have to do research, but obviously that’s not true. What is the most interesting thing you had to research in order to write this book?
Curiously, I did the most research on topics I thought I understood. The more questions I asked, the less I realized I knew. This held true especially for “Boy in Blue,” about my young, white son’s predilection for dressing and acting like a cop, a role inspired by our living beside a New York City precinct station. I wound up in some dark research holes, reading about everything from the slave patrol practices that inspired modern-day policing to the recent brain science that exempts juvenile offenders from being put to death. Much of this didn’t make it onto the page, but it all informed the writing.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Discover more great memoirs this Memoir March.

 

Author photo credit: Hannah Cohen

Courtney Zoffness shares some of the joys and difficulties behind her book, Spilt Milk, a collection of essays that plaits her life experiences with larger observations about society.

To celebrate Memoir March, we spoke to the authors of this spring’s most exciting memoirs about their research processes, writing roadblocks and biggest fears as they put their personal stories out into the world. Menachem Kaiser shares some of the joys and difficulties behind his book, Plunder, about his journey deep into the shadowy realm of Nazi treasure hunters.


What do you love most about your book?
How it embraces uncertainty. The story I recount in Plunder—namely, my quest to reclaim my grandfather's building and falling in with modern-day treasure hunters along the way—is not a straight-line story. Nothing went as planned. There were so many mishaps, misunderstandings, errors, and the book doesn't gloss these over, doesn’t smooth out the bumps. 

What kind of reader do you think will most appreciate or enjoy your book? 
Anyone who's confronted or wanted to confront their family story, especially with respect to World War II. So many of us don't know what our parents or grandparents or great-grandparents went through in the war, or know only fragments, bits and pieces. And I think sometimes we’re a little complacent, incurious, satisfied with undetailed family lore, because it’s always been there. It is so hugely rewarding to investigate, to step into your story. It is so much stranger, more complicated, more beautiful, more tragic than you thought.

What is one thing in your book that’s true that readers may have a hard time believing?
The way I first learned about my relative, Abraham Kajzer, the man so revered by the treasure hunters, does admittedly sound like a very unlikely story. I had initially sought out the treasure hunters only because I was curious. I had never heard of Abraham—in fact, I had no idea that my grandfather had any relatives who had survived the war. So here's what happened: I was sitting with the treasure hunters, having a beer, talking about Project Riese—the underground Nazi complex they had showed me that afternoon—and I overheard them saying, in Polish, my last name. I don’t speak Polish, I just caught my name, and I knew they weren’t talking about me. So I asked what was going on, who was this Kaiser? They explained they were talking about Abraham Kajzer, a Jewish enslaved laborer who, on account of the diary he had kept while working on Project Riese, has become an almost mythological figure among their community. 

My first thought was that it was a funny coincidence. But later that night, after pulling up some documents and translating the preface to Kajzer's diary, I was able to trace the family tree, and I realized that this was my grandfather's first cousin and his closest relative to have survived the war.


ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our review of Plunder.


What resistance did you face while writing this book?
It’s a touchy subject, reclamation. I encountered resistance on all sides. Some people, including many of my relatives, were disappointed and upset that I was being at all sympathetic to the Poles living in my grandfather’s old building, who were benefiting—even if unknowingly—from the murder of my grandfather’s family. And some people, particularly in Poland, accused me of being something like an evil landlord, trying to displace helpless tenants. I understand both sets of objections, even if I disagree.

Was there anything that surprised you as you wrote?
So, so many people, upon hearing about my book, would tell me their own story of lost family property in Eastern Europe and beyond: in Egypt, the Ivory Coast, South Africa. It wasn’t the dispossession that was so surprising—that part is horrifyingly ubiquitous—but how, even generations later, the descendants of those who were dispossessed still cling to a place they often have never even been to.

Is there anything in your book that you’re nervous for people to read?
One of the chapters details the relationship between Abraham and the German woman who hid him in the final weeks of the war, saving his life. They became lovers; after the war, Abraham stayed with her and her children. (Her husband, a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was killed on the front.) It’s a beautiful but challenging story—not exactly taboo but still not the sort of Jewish-German wartime narrative people are used to.

"The constraints of memoir can be frustrating but also allow you to turn inward, to be introspective, to not have answers, to question your own motivations."

How do you feel now that you’ve put this story to the page?
Really just grateful and kind of amazed that the book exists.

What's one way that your book is better as a memoir than it would have been as a novel?
I actually address this question directly in the book: I wonder aloud if I should have written it as a novel, because then the narrative could be neat, clean, linear, not plagued by false starts and misunderstandings. But that would have been the wrong move. Ultimately memoir was absolutely the appropriate genre for this story. The constraints—it has to be true, whether or not it makes sense, whether it helps or hinders the narrative—can be frustrating but also allow you to turn inward, to be introspective, to not have answers, to question your own motivations. 

Many people think writing memoir means you just write from memory and don’t have to do research, but obviously that’s not true. What is the most interesting thing you had to research in order to write this book?
There are some very out-there conspiracy theories rampant among the treasure hunters, particularly with respect to Nazi technology that’s been lost or covered up. I spent months researching Nazi UFOs, Nazi antigravity, Nazi time travel, Nazi space stations and on and on. Fascinating if occasionally horrifying stuff.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Discover more great memoirs this Memoir March.

 

Author photo credit: Beowolf Sheehan

Menachem Kaiser shares some of the joys and difficulties behind his book, Plunder, about his journey deep into the shadowy realm of Nazi treasure hunters.

To celebrate Memoir March, we spoke to the authors of this spring’s most exciting memoirs about their research processes, writing roadblocks and biggest fears as they put their personal stories out into the world. Louis Chude-Sokei shares some of the joys and difficulties behind his book, Floating in a Most Peculiar Way, about negotiating what it means to be African in Jamaica and the United States.


What do you love most about your book?
I love that I was able to fit so much life into such a compact space while still being true to all that I couldn’t keep in. With a memoir, you want to be true to the experiences you are conveying, but at the same time you want your particular vision as a writer to come through. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that those things could still occur after cutting so much out.

What kind of reader do you think will most appreciate or enjoy your book? 
I hope that readers who care about unique historical and personal experiences will appreciate the book. Also, those who care about writing that aims to make them see the world from a unique perspective, one that can’t be easily shaken off.

What is one thing in your book that’s true that readers may have a hard time believing?
Because this is a book about the life I’ve lived, that represents how I see, remember and tell that life, I can’t identify one thing that might be harder to believe than others. It’s only now that I’ve written the book that I’m hearing people say how unbelievable certain things are. To me it’s all eminently believable because it happened to me.


ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our reiew of Floating in a Most Peculiar Way.


What resistance did you face while writing this book?
One of the main difficulties I faced was the cultural and racial context. When I began sharing my story, readers seemed comfortable with a book that was either about African Americans or about Nigerians or about Jamaicans, but they were challenged by one that was about all of those groups—in one family and in one person. Some were also uncomfortable because the book is so honest about how all those different Black cultures see each other in complicated and at times politically incorrect ways. Writing in a way that honors the differences and the similarities while being true to the tensions and disagreements was a great but necessary challenge.

Was there anything that surprised you as you wrote?
I was surprised by how many memories came to me fully formed. I didn’t have to conjure them up or force them. One led to two, which led to four, and so on. I just had to begin shaping them. It was the creative aspect of dealing with memory that kept me from being overwhelmed with emotion while writing. Of course, now that it’s done, I’m surprised by how easy it is for me to become overwhelmed with emotion when I read it.

Is there anything in your book that you’re nervous for people to read?
I have some family members who will not be happy with how they or others in their family are represented, particularly in terms of how a young boy evaluates racial and cultural attitudes. Even though I disguise their names, they will know who I’m talking about. I’m also bracing myself for those who will find that the overall politics of the book don’t suit conventional narratives or positions around race in America. This is, of course, the point: The book is about new and different ways of thinking about race from the perspectives of those who come to “Blackness” from different angles and experiences. In America there is often great hostility toward those who refuse conventional racial expectations.

"The very moods, tones, worlds and conversations you produce in a memoir depend on the accuracy of your research."

How do you feel now that you’ve put this story to the page?
I’m only now coming to terms with the fact that it’s actually been completed and is being read by an incredible range of people. It’s completely different from my academic/scholarly work, where you have a good sense of who the audience is and what they are likely to say and think. But I feel incredibly proud to have put into the world some ideas and experiences that have not been fully expressed before and some stories that I think get marginalized despite being of huge significance to the country and the world today.

What's one way that your book is better as a memoir than it would have been as a novel?
Easy answer: much less stuff to invent!

Many people think writing memoir means you just write from memory and don’t have to do research, but obviously that’s not true. What is the most interesting thing you had to research in order to write this book?
That’s the thing: Memoirs require research, and I can affirm that as a professional researcher and scholar. However, what is different here is that you do the research not to display it, as you do with academic writing, but to fill in context, texture, flavor. So even if it’s not noticeable, the very moods, tones, worlds and conversations you produce in a memoir depend on the accuracy of that research. For example, the Nigerian Civil War, also known as the Biafra War. It’s been a part of my life since birth, of course, but I had to research it—not to provide just the history of the war but the various interpretations of that history that different members of my family and community had.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Discover more great memoirs this Memoir March.

 

Author photo credit: Sharona Jacobs

Louis Chude-Sokei shares some of the joys and difficulties behind his memoir Floating in a Most Peculiar Way, about negotiating what it means to be African in Jamaica and the United States.

To celebrate Memoir March, we spoke to the authors of this spring’s most exciting memoirs about their research processes, writing roadblocks and biggest fears as they put their personal stories out into the world. Georgina Lawton shares some of the joys and difficulties behind her book, Raceless, about growing up in a family that fiercely insisted, despite all outward appearances, that she was white.


What do you love most about your book?
That I cover multiple themes and places, that it looks at identity in a way we don’t see very often, that it’s not boring! I write about love, grief, secrets and shame by working through my family lore. And the physical journey I undertook to learn more about race and community brings the reader from London to the U.S. to Cuba, Nicaragua, Vietnam and back again. Examining DNA testing, Afro-futurism, Black hair and my own past took me on a journey of self-actualization while helping me understand my parents’ choices, too. 

What kind of reader do you think will most appreciate or enjoy your book? 
Those who navigate personal identities in the spaces between, anyone who has wrestled with family secrets—and readers with impeccable taste, of course.

What is one thing in your book that’s true that readers may have a hard time believing?
Perhaps on first glance, readers will find it hard to understand how an educated woman who looks like me grew up believing she was related to her white family. Or that my parents really did not ever discuss our differing racial backgrounds unless I pressed. Or that boxes were checked that declared my ethnicity as “white.”


ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our starred review of Raceless.


What resistance did you face while writing this book?
The turmoil of writing about my father, our life together and the strength of his love, while also attempting to understand his silence around our racial differences and to work through issues with my mother, was incredibly tough to overcome. I’m proud of the chapter “My Lot,” which is all about my dad, but I detest rereading it because it still makes me cry. 

Was there anything that surprised you as you wrote?
No one prepares you for the emotional time travel that a memoir necessitates. Writing something traumatic from your past is hard enough, but constantly editing and reworking it means that internal wounds take longer to heal. I was surprised by how draining some of it was.

Is there anything in your book that you’re nervous for people to read?
I’ve done a lot of memoir-style writing about me and my family over the years and received lovely, compassionate emails from strangers online, as well as some predictable trolling. It’s actually the other parts of Raceless—the analysis of the subjectivity of race and transracial identities—that I really hope readers are open to understanding.

"I learned a lot about love and belonging and the corrosive power of community secrets."

How do you feel now that you’ve put this story to the page?
Like I still want to go back and rewrite bits! I’m very pleased with the final product, but if I hadn’t had actual deadlines, I’d probably still be tinkering away. I am a perfectionist.

What's one way that your book is better as a memoir than it would have been as a novel?
Raceless
is a hybrid of memoir and analytical writing. If I had just written it as a novel, I wouldn’t have been able to bring in other perspectives and studies. Situating my personal experiences within some sociological discourse added weight to my narrative and hopefully made it more persuasive. 

Many people think writing memoir means you just write from memory and don’t have to do research, but obviously that’s not true. What is the most interesting thing you had to research in order to write this book?
Mining the memories of my Irish mother and English family members for insight into how and why my race and parentage remained a hidden truth for years was quite the mission. But I learned a lot about love and belonging and the corrosive power of community secrets.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Discover more great memoirs this Memoir March.

 

Author photo credit: Jamie Simonds © Loftus Media

Georgina Lawton shares some of the joys and difficulties behind her book, Raceless, about growing up in a family that fiercely insisted, despite all outward appearances, that she was white.

To celebrate Memoir March, we spoke to the authors of this spring’s most exciting memoirs about their research processes, writing roadblocks and biggest fears as they put their personal stories out into the world. Theo Padnos shares some of the joys and difficulties behind his book, Blindfold, about the two years he spent imprisoned by operatives of al-Qaida.


What do you love most about your book?
I’m not sure I do love it. I like that I told the truth, that you can understand new things about the Syrian war by reading it, that it’s about more than just me and more than just the Syrian war, that it has some funny bits, that it tells a story that many, many people have lived.

What kind of reader do you think will most appreciate or enjoy your book? 
I think the kind of person who will appreciate my book is perceptive, curious and open-minded. But perhaps the close-minded will also like it? Anyway, I wrote it for everyone. I hope everyone will appreciate it. 

What is one thing in your book that’s true that readers may have a hard time believing?
Not a thing in there that’s unbelievable, in my opinion. Possibly some people will have difficulty believing I wasn’t killed. But here I am—living and breathing.


ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our review of Blindfold.


What resistance did you face while writing this book?
Lots. It was hard for me to figure out how to make my story a story about something bigger than me.

Was there anything that surprised you as you wrote?
Yes, lots of things—everything, really. So many things I didn’t remember until I started writing about them. There’s a point in this book when some kidnappers are playing in my hair with the muzzle of their gun. I was in the front seat of a car and had no idea what they were doing. I didn’t even know I was kidnapped yet, to be honest. I did, however, feel a faint messing about in my hair, as if an insect were nuzzling around the nape of my neck. I recalled some details of this scene a few days after it occurred but didn’t recover anything like a coherent memory of the event—didn’t understand what it meant—until years later when I wrote about it. 

Is there anything in your book that you’re nervous for people to read?
Nope. I’ll be grateful if people read it. I’ll be annoyed if no one reviews it. Basically, I’m happy if anyone pays any kind of attention at all.

How do you feel now that you’ve put this story to the page?
I’m relieved. It’s not so much me telling a tale about my own life that I care about but rather me telling a tale that thousands of others have also lived. I want my readers to say to themselves, “Yup, I’ve been there” or, “I could have been there.” Even if they know nothing about Syria or have no intention of visiting this place, I hope they’ll say this.

"It’s important that people understand I haven’t made anything up because I am writing about a place in which so much of what happens defies belief."

What's one way that your book is better as a memoir than it would have been as a novel?
It’s all true. If it were a novel, people might suppose that I piped in random details from my imagination. In reality, I piped in non-random details from the world of facts. It’s important that people understand I haven’t made anything up because I am writing about a place—a Syrian Islamic state—in which so much of what happens defies belief. 

Many people think writing memoir means you just write from memory and don’t have to do research, but obviously that’s not true. What is the most interesting thing you had to research in order to write this book?
I did a bit of research through my kidnapper’s Facebook pages. Otherwise, I tried to keep anything that felt like research or reporting to a minimum. I didn’t want to write an extended magazine piece. Rather, I wanted to follow a line of feeling and to have this line bring the reader into truths they might not otherwise discover. What kind of truths? Truths about the war in Syria, yes—but also about love and loneliness, life and death, dreams and reality. 

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Discover more great memoirs this Memoir March.

 

Author photo credit: Karen Demas

Theo Padnos shares some of the joys and difficulties behind his book, Blindfold, about the two years he spent imprisoned by operatives of al-Qaida.

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