Fans pick 100 books like Burn Down, Rise Up

In my 25 years of writing short stories, novels, and plays, I have explored my Mexican and Chicano roots in a variety of genres, from literary fiction to horror to magical realism to science fiction and everything in between. In the end, I do not discriminate when it comes to genre because a well-told story is key for me, regardless of the mode chosen by the author. My most recent novel, Chicano Frankenstein, is a case in point. In it, I blend genres: horror, science fiction, political satire, and a bit of romance. So, too, I love reading fiction that bravely challenges conventional storytelling.

I am a lover of ghosts, historical murders, and all things spooky. I am also the author of eight YA novels, including two YA horror novels, Small Town Monsters and Hatchet Girls. Being half Puerto Rican, I try to lend my culture to my characters. Historically, the horror genre has been dominated by white male authors. And while I love their work, Stephen King is a master, I'm excited that women and POC writers are finally getting their stories told. What scares women is often very different from what scares men, same with people of color, and by releasing more diverse stories, like mine, we add ways to frighten new fans.

I am a lover of ghosts, historical murders, and all things spooky. I am also the author of eight YA novels, including two YA horror novels, Small Town Monsters and Hatchet Girls. Being half Puerto Rican, I try to lend my culture to my characters. Historically, the horror genre has been dominated by white male authors. And while I love their work, Stephen King is a master, I'm excited that women and POC writers are finally getting their stories told. What scares women is often very different from what scares men, same with people of color, and by releasing more diverse stories, like mine, we add ways to frighten new fans.

In my 25 years of writing short stories, novels, and plays, I have explored my Mexican and Chicano roots in a variety of genres, from literary fiction to horror to magical realism to science fiction and everything in between. In the end, I do not discriminate when it comes to genre because a well-told story is key for me, regardless of the mode chosen by the author. My most recent novel, Chicano Frankenstein, is a case in point. In it, I blend genres: horror, science fiction, political satire, and a bit of romance. So, too, I love reading fiction that bravely challenges conventional storytelling.

I spent 16 years teaching in NYC public schools, six of them on Rikers Island the world's biggest jail where I helped incarcerated teens improve their reading and writing skills. That experience helped to launch me on my own writing career. The job of the author? To hold up a mirror to society and reflect upon the page what the reader may not have experienced yet or missed seeing in the world outside the borders of a book.

As a lifelong New Yorker and author of two books about drinking in the city—New York Cocktails and Drink Like a Local New York—these are the books about bygone days of city living that I would tell you to read if we met in a bar. You already know the ones by E.B. White, Patti Smith, Lou Reed, or possibly Pete Hamill or Walt Winchell. Those books are fantastic, but these are some “deep cuts” New York City appreciation books that you should also get to know.  

I have always believed in the power of journalism to tell stories of people: the powerful as well as the ordinary and disenfranchised. In the hands of the right writer, such stories can have as much dramatic sweep and be as engrossing as any work of fiction. I have read literary nonfiction since before I became a journalist, and as a foreign correspondent, while breaking news is a key part of my job, longform narrative writing is where I really find gratification, as a writer and a reader. It’s a vast genre, so I focused this list mostly on stellar examples of foreign reporting. I hope you enjoy it. 

My writer’s journey has been circuitous. Originally, I’d intended to become a screenwriter, until I was bitten by the acting bug. Appearing often in film, television, and on Broadway, I found myself drawn to audiobook narration. After so much exposure to so many genres from so many authors, I decided to return to writing. Zombie Bigfoot is a novelization of a screenplay of mine, inspired by SkyMall magazine I read during a scuba diving trip. One page had a Bigfoot garden statue… the adjacent page had a garden flagstone with a zombie coming up out of the ground. I looked at those two images and thought: “How has nobody done this?”

Nightclubs and country clubs figured in my father’s business distributing snack foods in post-WWII “Steel City,” Pittsburgh, where I was served “Shirley Temple” cocktails in martini glasses alongside my parents’ Manhattans. (To my five- and six-year-old eye, the trophy was the maraschino cherry.) Decades later, teaching American literature in the university, my interest deepened in Jack London’s writing, and my book on him demanded close attention to the history of US cocktails and other drinks. London’s memoir, John Barleycorn, frankly details his drinking and eventual capture by alcohol. As a scholar-researcher, I was “captured” by the backstory of US cocktail culture.

Kubrick has fascinated me since I watched Paths of Glory at MoMA, one of Stanley’s old haunts, in the early 1960s. I first saw 2001 in London and then once a year after that back home in New York. I taught courses devoted to Kubrick, and when I taught the course online at the University of Virginia, welcomed his brother-in-law, Jan Harlan, to talk to us long distance. With each move, I drew closer and closer to our subject. I visited the Manor at Childwickbury and had lunch with Kubrick’s wife, Christiane. I studied documents in the Kubrick Archive in London. There became a point of recognizing myself in Kubrick himself and his films. A biography was inevitable.