Author: Kendra Winchester

Right after I graduated college, I realized my deteriorating health meant that I wouldn’t be able to do that job I’d been training for. In that mourning process, I discovered Jenny Lawson. In her first memoir Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, Lawson describes her quirky family, sharing stories about her dad’s obsession with taxidermy and her husband’s baptism by fire sort of introduction to her family. She strikes the perfect balance between describing the challenges she’s faced and the beautiful parts of life that make it all worth it. Lawson is both chronically and mentally ill, and she weaves that experience throughout her memoir and her following book, Furiously Happy and Broken (in the Best Possible Way). Reading about her wild family and the everyday things in life that brought her joy helped me process my own chronic illness and realize that, even though there are a lot of difficult things that we all experience as human beings, there’s also so much joy out there.

When I discovered Samantha Irby’s essays, I knew almost immediately that I had discovered a new-to-me favorite writer. Irby’s essays are both hilarious and emotionally impactful. Like Lawson, Irby has an incredible talent of using humor as a way to process the difficult things in her life. She first started writing as a blogger, sharing everything from takes on TV shows to fashion critiques, all with her incredible narrative voice. I especially appreciate her perspective as someone with chronic illness. There’s a certain kind of dark humor that thrives in our communities that I can never get enough of. While We Are Never Meeting in Real Life is my favorite, I also love Meaty and Wow, No Thank You. Whichever collection you choose, you are sure to have a good time!

Dr. William H. Turner has been writing about Black Appalachian history for decades. He edited essay collections and researched the vital role Black Appalachians had on the region. Harlan Renaissance focuses on the Black communities in Harlan, Kentucky, where Turner is originally from. Turner discusses how much of the country forgets the importance of Black communities in Kentucky, writing it off as a state with just a bunch of white people. The reality is more complex than that. I really appreciate Turner’s perspective and the care he put into this book. Harlan Renaissance is a brilliant piece of oral and recorded history that celebrates Black Appalachian culture.

In this follow up to her critically acclaimed book Dopesick, Beth Macy returns to Appalachia to describe the ongoing opioid crisis. In Raising Lazarus, Macy focuses on the efforts of folks around the region working to help those seeking recovery. From needle exchanges to prescription drugs thought to help people stay in recovery, Macy outlines the programs and details the challenges that different recovery programs face. While many judges and people in law enforcement believe that abstinence is the only option, Macy points out why that’s not necessarily the case. There’s no single path to recovery.

I love a good story of an unlikely friendship, and Mashama Bailey and John O. Morisano’s friendship is one of the best. When Morisano first bought the old Greyhound bus station in Savannah, he wasn’t sure what he’d do with it. But as an Italian white man from Long Island, he grew up with a profound love of food. Soon he was introduced to Mashama Bailey, a Black woman from Queens who also had family ties to Savannah. Soon they became partners in The Grey, a restaurant that brought them both National acclaim. You can even see them featured in an episode of Netflix’s popular Chef’s Table series.

Originally descended from enslaved West and Central Africans, the Gullah Geechee people have lived in the Lowcountry for generations, creating their own distinctive culture and language. Their cuisine focuses on natural resources found in the Lowcountry wetlands, often using rice and seafood. Of course, I had to grab a cookbook (in fact, I now have several), but one of my favorites is Bress ‘n’ Nyam. He tells his family history through the recipes he shares, many of which have been passed down for generations.

As a fan of My Brilliant Friend, I knew I wanted to read Ferrante’s nonfiction. So a few years ago, I picked up Frantumaglia, which contains a lot of essays that came out before the success of Ferrante’s Neapolitan quartet. These essays discuss the reception of her novel, the film adaptations, and her thoughts about written and visual arts. Since Elena Ferrante is a pseudonym, these essays often feel like secret missives as Ferrante guards her identity while still engaging with her readers’ reaction to her work. I’ve read most of Ferrante’s novels and found it fascinating to see the publishing process from Ferrante’s perspective.

Jhumpa Lahiri is one of my favorite authors, so when I heard she was learning to write in Italian, I felt incredibly sad that I couldn’t read it. But I shouldn’t have worried. Elena Ferrante’s translator, Ann Goldstein, translated In Other Words into English. If you’re like me, you’re probably wondering why Lahiri didn’t translate the text herself, but Lahiri has stated that she wants readers to get a more accurate perception of her skills in Italian. This book is cleverly formatted to include the English translation on one side and the original Italian on the other. The topics of the essays mostly focus on Lahiri’s relationship with the Italian language and her motivation in learning it. This book is perfect for any language nerd.