73 books like Dreamland

In this tour-de-force work of investigative journalism, New Yorker staff writer Patrick Radden Keefe traces the sordid history of the Sackler dynasty, the billionaire family behind Purdue Pharmaceuticals and its blockbuster narcotic painkiller OxyContin.

With both narrative verve and moral urgency—a combination that isn’t always easy to pull off—this book exposes one of the many points of origin for America’s devastating opioid epidemic. Keefe’s work has reinforced my conviction that drug historians have an important role to play in shaping public understanding and policy debates around these substances in the present. I found this book to be a page-turner and one of the most thoughtful books I’ve read in years.  

Meier’s takedown of Purdue Pharma was ahead of its time. First published in 2003, Pain Killer was updated and re-published in 2018, Meier’s book is a hard-hitting account of the early causes of the opioid crisis. He shows how Purdue tried to hide information about OxyContin’s widespread abuse and the painkiller’s addictive nature. He also spotlights the Justice Department’s repeated failures to combat the drug epidemic. Meier is a former reporter at The New York Times. At one point, the Times’ editors yanked Meier off the opioid beat in response to complaints by Purdue Pharma lawyers. The complaints, of course, were unfounded, and editors later admitted they had been duped. I’m glad it didn’t stop Meier from writing and updating this landmark book.

Reading a book about people taking prescribed drugs end up being swallowed whole by addiction is heartbreaking. Realizing how easily kids can fall into that trap is terrifying. Knowing that much of that agony is fueled by aggressive profit-seeking is infuriating. Amidst the pain of this well-told story are heroes fighting to stop the onslaught. It reminds us that on the knife’s edge of life, it’s way too easy to fall to either side.   

McGreal’s book fell a bit under the radar, but in my mind, it’s one of the best books of reportage on the opioid epidemic. As a reporter for The Guardian, McGreal covered the drug crisis for years. American Overdose connects all the dots that caused it. The book starts out, “Even as a teenager, Henry Vinson wanted to be an undertaker,” then takes flight from the hollows of West Virginia to the halls of Congress. McGreal is a tenacious reporter and a superb writer. He’s one of the first reporters to lay bare the Food and Drug Administration’s cozy relationship with Purdue Pharma. And he introduces readers to former DEA agent Joe Rannazzisi, who tried to put the brakes on massive shipments of painkillers to small towns across America, but was forced to step aside after Big Pharma complained about him to powerful U.S. lawmakers. The story builds from… show more.

I can’t even tell you how many times in many years working for newspapers that I rushed out after hearing a body had been found in an empty house or neglected alley. In almost every case, I would arrive to have police officers tell me, “No story here. No homicide. Just another overdose.” The newspaper didn’t tally overdose deaths as it did murders, even if many fatalities are linked to heroin that has been mixed with fentanyl without the users’ knowledge. It’s very rare for those who sell the killer substance to face homicide charges. 

The city is basically another character in this book. While the opioid epidemic had touched communities across the country, Philadelphia’s Kensington neighborhood is widely acknowledged as a disaster zone. A 2018 New York Times article called Kensington is the largest open-air narcotics market on the east coast. 

The plot centers on Philadelphia police officer Mickey… show more.

There’s a seedy side to the pharmaceutical industry that started well before the creation of the FDA, and continues through the modern era, fueling the epidemic of opioid drug dependency.

In Pharma, Posner’s comprehensive reporting introduces us to brilliant scientists, incorruptible government regulators, and brave whistleblowers facing off against company executives often blinded by greed.

We learn how the Sacklers built a culture of pain relief on the shoulders of oxycontin – one that ultimately led to the lowest survival rates for Americans in a century.

Why Did I Ever falls into my favorite genre of fiction, which I will describe loosely as “narrated by a sardonic, wincingly funny, tragic woman.” (See also: Lorrie Moore, Amy Hempel, Lauren Groff, Mary Gaitskill, among others.)

The narrator, Money, is a self-sabotaging script doctor whose daughter, Mev, is addicted to opioids, and whose son is under police protection following a violent assault. 

As a seemingly directionless woman who spends much of the book driving or sourcing Ritalin, Money counts, in my books, as a “transgressive” mother. She’s also charming and likable. This book is dark and deeply affecting at times. At many other times, it’s hilarious. I recommend it to anyone who loves that hinterland — between the tragic and darkly funny.

Bourgois’ and Schonberg’s accounts opened up the ‘parallel world’ of homelessness for me and inspired me to do my own research on homelessness.

They spent years trying to understand people experiencing homelessness in San Francisco, following them on their daily journeys through institutions and city landscapes; they intimately understood their struggles, from mental health and addiction to systematic exclusion.

Their long, in-depth, and grassroots accounts of people on the street made me grasp their varied experiences for the first time.

I wanted a totally different perspective of Appalachia, and this book delivers on that completely. I love the heartwarming and sometimes tragic stories of pioneering people who settled in these mountains in the 1800s. But this tale shoved me right into modern-day Appalachia, with its poverty, drug abuse, and violence.

This book definitely made me think about life’s choices; how would I have handled such obstacles as the characters faced? What options did they really have, and did they truly make the best choices? Whether I agreed, disagreed, yelled at these characters, or cried with them, it was a very well-written and immersive reading experience.

Afterward, I closed the book and thought about my own life’s decisions.

Ghost Eaters is a deep dive into the horrors of addiction. While the focus is largely on substance abuse, the book also explores love addiction and grief in fresh ways. Erin, the protagonist, loses her graduate school friend and love to an overdose. As she tries to explore the details of Silas’ final days, she finds herself mixed up in a new drug—one that allows the user to communicate with the dead. Discovering what happened to Silas, leads Erin to learn far more about herself and her own addictive personality than it does about Silas or his final days.