Love A Fever In The Heartland? Readers share 100 books like A Fever In The Heartland...

In the true crime-writing biz, access to key sources is everything. Capote and his assistant, the writer Harper Lee, enjoyed nearly unfettered contact with Richard Hickock and Perry Smith, the two sad sack ex-cons who committed the infamous murders of the Clutter family in 1959 in a Kansas whistle-stop town—and swung from a rope for it.

Capote made the most of the secrets he learned from Hickock and Smith, painting a psychological portrait of the pair that stands even today as a model of reporting (even if he did bend a few facts). Capote’s descriptive genius left me feeling as if I were standing beside him on the vast Kansas prairie, pencil and notebook in hand.

A full quarter-century later, what did we learn about the how and why of modern American school shootings from the 1999 slaughter at Columbine High School in Colorado? Not much, apparently, since they still occur with random regularity.

But it’s all here, in Cullen’s remarkable account, in granular detail—the who, how, and why of two rather isolated boys who donned their dusters and walked into their school with guns blazing. The subject matter might be sickening, but this indelible portrait of the perps and victims is essential reading if we have any hope of stemming the madness. 

Do you like to root for the bad guy? Then George Jung, the central figure in this true crime classic about the Columbia-to-America cocaine snowstorm of the 1980s, might just be your man.

Author Porter weaves a brisk, vivid narrative about his anti-hero Jung, a likable goofball stoner who stumbles into the big-time international coke biz and isn’t smart enough to get out (and he had his chances, lord knows).

Johnny Depp did a memorable job of portraying Jung in the film version of Blow (released in 2001), but the Porter’s book takes the reader three or four levels deeper into the absurdities of Jung’s narcotics hellscape.

I have a hunger for the human stories that hide behind the technical language, historical excursions, and occasionally baffling reasoning of Supreme Court decisions. There are a few legal journalists who excel at showing us these hidden lives; Anthony Lewis of the New York Times was one of these.

This book was his masterpiece, an account of the relationships among impoverished four-time convicted felon Clarence Gideon, his lawyer Abe Fortas (later to be named to the Court), the members of the Warren Court, and the law of American criminal justice. The 1963 decision in Gideon v. Wainwright, which established that persons facing serious criminal charges must be provided with lawyers, is inspiring reading, but the larger story that Lewis tells us is both more intricate and more moving.

Fifty years ago, a federal judge in Washington State issued a decision that upended the fishing economy and culture of the Pacific Northwest. United States v. Washington, which was eventually upheld by the Supreme Court, held that treaties between the government and the tribal peoples of that region must be respected and ruled that the tribes had a right to 50% of the annual catch. 

Wilkinson, one of the lawyers who advised and represented the tribal peoples, imbues his account of the lawsuit and its aftermath with Indian values and culture. Importantly, this form of storytelling includes numerous oral histories. They could serve the right reader as a sort of spiritual guide to how to behave when you, a peaceful person, find that your rights are being violated with apparent impunity.

 I love the blend of reporting and remembering in this book, as well as the skill Iversen brings to weaving them together. In 1992, a federal grand jury indicted the management of the Rocky Flats nuclear weapons plant northwest of Denver. The grand jury’s two-year investigation into the safety and environmental violations at the plant also produced a detailed and damning report, emphasizing the government’s efforts to cover up the danger that the plant posed to its employees and to people who lived nearby. The latter population included Iversen’s family.

Her childhood home, organized around the need to overlook her father’s alcoholism, drove her and her siblings outdoors into what looked like idyllic, pristine Colorado outer suburbia. There, they wandered about, rode their horses, and swam in the local creeks and lakes. Reading this, I could see some of what was coming. But it still surprises—and enrages.

This highly readable book allows us to hear from one of the actual parties to a Supreme Court case. Jim Obergefell and his co-author, Debbie Cenziper, invite us into the twined lives of Obergefell and his beloved, John Arthur. 

In 2013 Obergefell and Arthur, who was dying painfully from ALS, flew from their home in Ohio to Maryland, where gay marriage was recognized, to exchange vows. But Ohio refused to acknowledge their marriage and would insist that Arthur’s death certificate must describe him as single. As Arthur lay on his deathbed, he and Obergefell contracted with civil rights attorney Al Gerhardstein to pursue the lawsuit that would become Obergefell v. Hodges, in which the Supreme Court held that the states must recognize same-sex marriages. Gerhardstein always insisted that every civil rights case starts with a story. This one could melt a heart of stone.

I don’t know of a criminal case—or a true crime book—that better exemplifies America’s fractured political divide. With deep access to the central figures in this heartbreaking story, author Sexton investigates the gulf between one side and the other and how we got there.

The book focuses on a night of violent conflict in Omaha, Nebraska, in May 2020, during the social unrest following the police killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis. Sexton takes readers inside the decision-making process of key players in the drama, including family members as well as law enforcement and criminal justice professionals.

You will not be surprised to learn that misinformation and half-truths from spurious social media sources played a key role in this case, equal parts tragedy and debacle.

For my last pick, I’ve chosen a novel published near the end of the Golden Age (roughly the 1920s through the 1950s). Author and solicitor Michael Gilbert set his novel in the chambers of Horniman, Birley, and Craine. After the death of the firm’s senior partner, a hermetically sealed deed box is opened, revealing the corpse of Marcus Smallbone, a co-trustee with the late Mr. Horniman of the valuable Ichbod Trust. With the help of newly qualified solicitor Henry Bohun, Chief Inspector Hazelrigg sorts through a maze of lies and misdirection to uncover the surprising perpetrator and motive. Martin Edwards, in the foreword to the Poisoned Pen Press edition, said, “The book blends in masterly fashion, an authentic setting, pleasingly differentiated characters, smoothly readable prose, and a clever puzzle.” 

This was the first book I read from Natalie Walters and it was fabulous! She is an auto-buy for me with a riveting story that is not only crime-centric but with relatable and real characters! Her romance is light and expertly woven through a story that will keep you guessing, biting your fingernails, and skipping dinner!