My favorite books by journalists, for journalists

Real-life P.I. Ethan Brown pulls no punches with this wrenching exposé of deep-South police corruption.

Murder in the Bayou parts the curtain on inescapable connections between eight women killed in a rural Louisiana parish between 2005-2009..

Clocking in at less than 250 pages, this one is thick as swamp fog with the backgrounds and rap sheets of all players, indicted and unindicted. Brown's boots-on-the-ground approach to this story is evident in the interviews he scored with the central characters of this backwoods underworld.

The result is not just a triumph of journalism; it's a triumph of courage. I was inspired by Brown's devotion to the story and, more importantly, to the families and friends of these marginalized women.

Seek finds Johnson mining his own humanity through true tales of Alaskan gold prospecting and the manhunt for a serial bomber.

He loses himself in fungus at an Oregan hippie festival and searches for God at a Christian biker rally in Texas. His travels take him to the sometimes-literal frontlines of the news, including the hellish delirium of the Liberian civil war and conversations with Constitution-toting Montanans bent on the overthrow of the United States government.

Johnson's writing in this compilation of essays was absolutely searing and a revelation to me. This stuff belongs in the home library of anyone who's ever aspired to pick up the pen.

Believe it or not, this irreverently titled gem was recommended to me by a pastor.

Charlie LeDuff is no saint, but his sermons on racial unrest, politician-class hypocrisy, and the poisoned water of Flint, Michigan should evoke some Old Testament outrage in any red-blooded American.

LeDuff shrugs off the tired tropes and narratives for a God's-honest odyssey of the U.S. to document corrosions within our culture and society. I dig his style and, more critically, his clear-eyed examination of the problems average people are facing across the country.

Sh*tshow! is a fun and refreshing read, sure to help recharge the batteries of even our most cynical.

The Dark Side of Camelot is Sy Hersh's controversial takedown of the Kennedy dynasty.

Sidestepping the conspiracy theories surrounding the president's murder, the Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter hones his spotlight on the man's life instead; a glamorous one riddled nonetheless with self-imposed scandals on a dizzying array of levels.

The book is loaded with volumes of interviews with retired Secret Service, CIA agents, and other insiders who knew a different John F. Kennedy than most of the public. Their revelations depict a man obsessed with revenge and sex in ways that nearly turned our Cold War hot.

An adage is that history books are written by the victors. The Dark Side of Camelot is proof that the truth-tellers have a say sometimes as well.

Journalists: You had to know you weren't escaping this one without an obligatory ode to the godfather of Gonzo.

I picked this one over Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72 and other classic compendiums simply because it stands apart from most of his other work. The Rum Diary gives us the opportunity to see stretch Hunter stretch legs as a novelist.

Set in beautiful Puerto Rico, the story follows the exploits of a newspaper crew (who else) searching for lowbrow highs while grappling with the existential doom (what else) of a sometimes hopeless vocation.

Hunter rarely misses his targets, and this novel is no exception. I re-read it frequently in an attempt to absorb his perhaps primary lesson; that our writing can and should be everything but boring.