Fans pick 86 books like Chiefs

Kaya Clark is the wild child I longed to be growing up. Although her family story is tragic and well-explored, how she inhabits her world of nature and allows it to inhabit her is stunning. Once again, she is a young woman who is an outcast who manages to rise above her limitations and those placed on her by society. 

Beyond the incredible storytelling and intriguing plot lines, I was mesmerized by the natural world of the North Carolina marshes, being as much a main character as Kaya herself. The intricate details of the lushness and cruelty of the natural world were incredible. In looking back at my favorite novels, one of the commonalities is the writing’s ability to come alive in my head and to take up a permanent space as much as my own lived memories. This novel is one of those.

This book is about defending justice, using a legal system to fight something you know is wrong, and sticking to what is right at all costs. It is about knowing what’s right and what’s wrong.

My main character, too—Miss Pink sticks to what is right at all costs. This touching, powerful story shows the worst of people and the best. 

I love this nonfiction book because it reveals much about the history of Jackson County, Georgia, that I did not know when Floyd Hoard moved there in the 1950s.

Mike Buffington gives details of the corruption in the county, which was much deeper than Hoard knew when he continued making efforts to clean out the bootlegging and car theft rings in the area. Those criminal rings would later become known as the Georgia Dixie Mafia, the group that would order and carry out Hoard’s car bombing death in 1967.

I love the nonfiction book because Phil Hudgins tells the story of Billy Sunday Birt, who killed more than fifty people in the 1970s in Georgia before his arrest. I was intrigued by the honesty of Birt’s widow as she told of the fear she lived with as the true character of her husband unfolded and why she stayed with him because of the threats of what would happen if she tried to leave. I was also interested in how she tried to keep her faith in God as she learned more and more about the killings.

I love the book because Hudgins shows Birt's gradual dehumanization until a spiritual awakening in prison brings him to a recognition of the pain he has caused others. However, the awakening does not bring about the happy ending people might expect of such a story. 

This history of Providence Canyon in southwestern Georgia explores a seemingly ironic state park: one dedicated to preserving a network of massive erosion gullies formed by poor cotton farming. But Providence Canyon is so much more than ironic, as this book beautifully illustrates. Yes, improvident farming harmed the land—as was the case across much of the South—but the spectacular gullies of Stewart County came from the intersection of human abuse and terrifyingly fragile soil structures. And they are somehow sublimely beautiful, despite their grim past. The park is perhaps the perfect place to witness the way in which human and natural actions are always tied together. Come for the gullies, stay for the lessons!

I love this book because it resonates with my leadership roles during various stages of my career. It is inspiring to read that Stacy Abrams, who has held successful leadership roles on a state and national level, faced and overcame many challenges.

She not only writes about the challenges, but she also provides practical advice and tools, such as activities that you can do to succeed in the face of challenges. I love the book because it is a source of motivation for being my authentic self and a resource for overcoming challenges in leadership roles. 

I have loved Black literature written in Southern AAVE since reading Charles Chesnutt’s The Conjure Woman in graduate school. But perhaps what I love most about the narrator, Octavia (also known as Sweet Pea), is that she’s fluent in many languages: the language of the hood where she lives, of the classroom where she excels, and of the playground, where her poverty is often a cause for ridicule, but where her sassy, outspoken nature is treated with grudging respect. Early 1980s Atlanta is an unsafe place for children: drugs, gangs, and the Atlanta Child Murders are threatening their very existence, and like many of the stories on my list, Octavia’s triptych also ends with a departure. However, her wit and savvy make clear that, wherever she lands, she’s going to be alright. 

I am always grateful when a book introduces me to a place completely unknown to me. Janisse Ray’s gorgeous memoir does exactly that: southern Georgia's disappearing longleaf pine forests. Her introduction to this landscape is a gift to readers, who will yearn, as she does, for its regeneration after a century of exploitation.

Raised in a junkyard along a busy highway, this writer learned the land’s history through the stories of her parents and others; she learned the intricate ecology of the pines and their companion flora and fauna, almost lost to industry and greed. Lyrical and beautifully written, Ray’s evocations of complex plant communities linger in the mind long after you’ve finished the book.

Set in Georgia in 1958, Tang Mae is the darkest of ten fatherless children and considered by her mother the ugliest. However, she is selected to attend a white school because she is gifted. This gives her an opportunity to change her life, but she must first break free from her mother's grasp.

There were many times I wanted to put this book down and not finish it. The brutality and abuse were hard to bear. And yet, I felt compelled to read the entire thing because I wanted to see Tang Mae succeed.

It inspired me that she never gave up on her dream of completing her education despite all the abuse and loss she experienced. I spent a lot of time thinking about this book long after I read it.  

Amanda Kyle Williams quit school at sixteen, was diagnosed with dyslexia at twenty-two, and read her first book at twenty-three. She overcame addiction and wrote while working odd jobs, becoming a best-seller with her Keye Street series.

My wife heard Amanda speak at a dyslexia conference and told her about her husband who wanted to write books; later when I met Amanda at the Decatur Book Festival, she smiled and said, “Oh, yeah, you’re the writer.”

I love her protagonist Keye, a private investigator in Atlanta and former FBI profiler. She’s funny and gutsy and wrestles with her own demons. Don’t Talk to Strangers, the third in the series, is as good as the first two. Amanda died of cancer in 2018, but she left behind a tremendously inspiring legacy in both Keye and her own incredible story.