Category: True Story

E.J. Koh grew up with her grandparents in the U.S. while her parents moved back to Korea to work and send money to their kids. Koh received letters from her mother written in Korean. In the Magical Language of Others is written while Koh is translating her mother’s letters and processing her relationship with her parents who she didn’t see for long stretches of time. Koh has a way of bringing the reader into her state of mind and the intimate process of trying to find a way to communicate with her mother through language and cultural barriers.

Mallory O’Meara tells the story of Milicent Patrick, one of the designers who worked on the monster design for The Creature of the Black Lagoon. O’Meara describes the early years of Patrick’s Hollywood career, giving us a picture of what it was like to be a woman working in the movie industry during the middle of the 19th century. As we learn more of the prospects of women monster costume designers at the time, we also gain more perspective on Hollywood as a whole, delving into the weird career politics happening at the time. I’m usually not interested in the history of Hollywood, but I enjoyed learning more about classic monster costume design and how it developed throughout the 20th century.

The moment I read the description of Erica Berry’s new book, Wolfish: Wolf, Self, and the Stories We Tell About Fear, I knew I needed to read it. Berry frames her look at wolves as symbols of human fear with the story of OR-7, a famous wolf that roamed through Oregon. She expertly ties together her ideas with the wolf, delving into everything from fairytales to her own story as a woman living in a male-centered world. I found myself consumed by this book, exploring Berry’s different ideas, each chapter building upon the last. It’s such a lush, multi-genre book, full of insightful observations and excellent storytelling.

In honor of Nicole Chung’s second memoir coming out this week, I’d thought we’d look at her first book, All You Can Ever Know. Chung grew up as a Korean American adoptee with white parents. Chung’s parents loved her deeply and thought that love was enough. But as she grew, Chung began to realize that her parents didn’t understand what it was like to be Asian American in their mostly-white town. Chung describes her journey, untangling the many threads of her family history and how she came to be given up for adoption. Her experience causes her to think more about the wider world of private adoption and the many problems within the industry. Her writing is direct as she openly describes the complication of loving her parents while also knowing there could have been a lot of things done better about her upbringing as an interracial adoptee. All You Can Ever Know is a stunning memoir that opens up a conversation about private and interracial adoption in America.

Elisabeth Tova Bailey found herself bedridden, and doctors had no idea what was going on. So went her year, and she spent most of it having to lay completely still. This stillness made time seem to pass more slowly. In disabilities studies, we call this “crip time,” which just refers to how disabled people can experience time differently. Bailey found herself watching the small world around her, eventually noticing that a snail had made itself a home in one of her potted plants. She found herself mesmerized by the comings and goings of her new friend. Bailey shares with readers how she was grateful for this part of her experience being bedridden. She found herself noticing the wonders of the natural world she wouldn’t have seen otherwise. As someone who is often stuck in bed or on the couch, I appreciated Bailey’s take on this and found myself following Bailey’s lead and appreciating my surroundings.

I love a good essay collection! And as a long-time resident of the South, I’m always looking for new perspectives on the complex region I call home. Anjali Enjeti writes about her experiences living as a South Asian American woman in the South. When people not from the region think of the South, they often have a lot of assumptions. Enjeti tackles a lot of the stereotypes of folks in the South, and writes about the dangers of white feminism, the rise of Christian Nationalism, and the difficulties of organizing in the South. Her essays are so insightful, inviting readers to examine the South in a new way.

From the moment I heard Vicki Laveau-Harvie’s voice reading the audiobook of The Erratics, I knew I was listening to something really special. Laveau-Harvie’s debut novel came out in her late 70s, and she won the prestigious Stella Prize for best book. Her memoir centers on a time when Laveau-Harvie travels from Australia back to Canada to care for her parents after her mother has a horrible fall. When Laveau-Harvie leaves her mom in the hospital to go take care of her dad back at the family home, she discovers that her father has been neglected. It seems that her mother was starving him. Caring for her father stirs up so many childhood memories that she’d rather stay locked away. As she describes her time with her parents and key memories from her childhood, readers can’t help but be swept away by her prose. And in the Australian edition of the audiobook, Laveau-Harvie reads her story herself. She’s an incredible narrator, with such a dry wit and dark sense of humor. This is such an unknown gem of a book.

Carly Findlay was born with a rare skin condition called Ichthyosis, which causes her skin to appear red and inflamed. Findlay grew up with doctors constantly poking and prodding her. She was paraded in front of doctors who marveled over her rare condition, often making her feel like an animal in a zoo. Other kids, and their parents, responded horribly to Findlay just trying to live her life at school and in her community. Through all of this she wished that people would quit staring at her. She wanted them to just introduce themselves and say hello. Findlay, who is an incredible disability rights advocate from Australia, has worked tirelessly to promote and support disabled people, particularly by raising awareness for people with facial differences. I really appreciate Findlay sharing her story with the world, and I will treasure her memoir always.

Like much of the bookish world, I became engrossed by Matthew Desmond’s Evicted. Now Desmond is back with Poverty, By America, which delves into how America has systematically built itself around keeping the poor, well, poor. While Evicted is a very structured book around the people Desmond meets during his research, Poverty, By America is structured thematically around his ideas. Desmond’s latest is a very slim book, but in its pages, he continues his discussion of America’s economically disadvantaged and the structures in place to keep them from building wealth.

When she is 14, Lamya H is sitting in her high school classroom in a country in the Middle East when she realizes that she’s gay. After she moves to the U.S. for college, she begins to find a life of her own as a queer, hijab-wearing Muslim. She finds a community of other queer Muslims, some of whom become her found family. Lamya’s book is my favorite memoir of the year so far. She writes in such beautiful prose and possesses this incredible ability to create intimacy between the text and her readers.

I love a memoir that plays with format, and Black, White, and the Grey is the perfect example of why that is. This memoir is written in turn by Mashama Bailey and John O. Morisano, the two co-owners of The Grey, a restaurant in Savannah, Georgia. Their memoir describes how Morisano, a Italian from Staten Island, and Bailey, a Black chef from Queens, came to become business partners. They write in alternating sections, each author’s text appears in different fonts. They each share their perspective on their story, but working in tandem. On the audiobook, they each read their own section, creating this unique back and forth feel, like you’re listening to them describe their experience starting the Grey on some panel at a food festival. I loved every minute of it.

Michael W. Twitty is no stranger to connecting his cultural background to the food he cooks. I loved his first book, The Cooking Gene, which followed the results of his commercial genetics test that showed his different racial and ethnic backgrounds. He shared the different foods from his heritage and how they connect to who he is now. His latest book, Koshersoul, follows his spiritual and cultural journey as an African American Jewish man. He describes the history of African and African American Jewish people and how their experiences have deeply impacted Jewish cuisine. I just love learning more about how food connects us with our culture, and Twitty’s books are always so incredible and engrossing.

From the first essay that I listened to Irby read, I knew she was going to be one of my favorite writers. Her essays are hilarious but still filled with more serious topics, like growing up with a disabled mom and a dad who died far too soon. Yes, Irby uses humor to cope with the difficult things in her life, but she also uses humor to express the bright spots in her life. She describes meeting her wife and falling in love with such tenderness and laugh-out-loud anecdotes.

I love movies and TV. There’s just something about watching a story that taps into universal feelings that we all hold close to our chest. But I also love essays, so when I heard Lindy West had an essay collection all about modern cinema, I downloaded that audiobook so fast. And Sh*t, Actually is a delight. West is known for her over-the-top way of expressing herself, which lends itself to writing about movies. I laughed so much. I can’t recommend it enough if you just need something ridiculous (in the absolute best possible way) to read/listen to as a pick-me-up.

I really loved May’s book about what she calls “wintering,” a difficult time in our lives when we draw back and rest. She argues that this is a vital part of anyone’s life. It’s a natural “season” that everyone has, but then why do we treat those “wintering” as if they have failed? It’s such a gorgeous book! I pre-ordered Enchantment and was fascinated to learn that this book is completely its own thing. Enchantment is about slowing down and appreciating the natural world. It’s a nature-focused treatise on pausing to smell the roses. I admit, I expected more of Wintering’s vibes, but I now suspect that May wanted Enchantment to be its own thing. So if you’re looking for a quiet book to cozy up with on a warm spring day, I’d definitely recommend this one.

Here in Spartanburg, South Carolina, we have a wonderful indie press called Hub City Press. It’s a lovely boutique nonprofit press that focuses on Southern and Appalachian literature. One of my favorite books of theirs in recent years is A Measure of Belonging: Twenty-One Writers of Color on the New American South. It’s an anthology of Black, Indigenous, and other people of color from the South writing about their experiences. Authors like Natalia Sylvester, Kiese Laymon, and Aruni Kashyap share their stories. Cinelle Barnes did such a wonderful job putting this collection together. She’s definitely edited a book that I will be gifting to all of my friends for the foreseeable future.

When she was 19, Emily Maloney was admitted to the hospital via the ER for attempted suicide. But she didn’t realize that every single question a nurse or medical professional might ask her, also came with a high price tag. When she left the hospital, she found herself in five-figure medical debt, with no prospects on how she might pay it off. Cost of Living looks at the different ways that America’s very broken healthcare system charges to keep people alive, many of whom are in times of crisis. When you just want yourself or your loved ones to make it through, how are you supposed to make informed decisions when hospitals actively discourage you from doing so? Maloney’s collection was, admittedly, very hard for me to read. As a disabled person who has found myself in the emergency room on many occasions, I couldn’t help but deeply feel for Maloney and her uphill battle of trying to find appropriate care.

In this graphic memoir, author Teresa Wong describes her experience with postpartum depression, and her struggle to find effective treatment for her condition. Having a baby comes with a lot of expectations of how a person should feel about their new baby. There’s a societal expectation that they will be happy, that every discomfort is worth it because you just had a baby. That it should just be a wonderful experience across the board, right? But that’s not how it went for Wong. She found herself stuffed in a fog of intense depression, making it incredibly difficult for her to find a medical professional that would even acknowledge her condition, let alone work with her to find the appropriate treatment.

When James Tate Hill was 16, he began to lose his vision. He and his parents began visiting doctor after doctor, trying to find some sort of treatment to restore his sight. Hill hid the extent of his condition from everyone around him. As he entered adulthood and attended college, Hill found ways to get around telling his peers the true reason why he didn’t drive or read menus at restaurants. When Hill falls in love and marries his wife, her attitude toward his disability often sours their relationship. Through his story, Hill takes readers through his journey of self acceptance and coming to peace with his blindness.

Haben Girma is an Eritrean American DeafBlind activist who graduated from Harvard Law School. She was born with a condition that would eventually cause her to lose the majority of her sight and hearing. But Girma embraces her bodymind as it is, going to a special summer camp for the blind and traveling the world. Her memoir follows her experiences and all of the incredible things she’s accomplished in her life. She describes first standing up for herself when a teacher wouldn’t provide the notes she needed for class when she was in middle school. Girma now uses her law degree to fight for the legal rights for folks in the disabled community.