71 books like Fireboat

Do you remember watching the news during the pandemic, when you could see everybody’s bookcases for the first time? 

There’s a reason that everyone kept noticing this book over and over and again. First, it’s really long, which means it’s thick and the spine is very recognizable. More importantly, most people read it because of what Caro has to say about the nature of political power.

It’s a biography of Robert Moses, who held multiple state and local positions that allowed him to build most of the infrastructure in and around New York City during the mid-twentieth century: highways, bridges, parks, etc.

I love it because it explains why New York City is the way it is. The chapter on the Cross Bronx Expressway may be the best piece of urban history ever written.

It seems like a bit of a long title for a New York Times Bestseller but I promise this book is educational, entertaining, and worth every second. Sullivan spent a year observing a rat-infested alley, and came away with a better understanding of our least-favorite rodents, as well as the many people who spend their lives trying to keep rats and humans apart. At first it might seem weird to sit outside and watch the rats every night, but by the end, you can’t imagine doing anything else.

Great writing on cities is rarer than it should be. The late Mike Davis, using Los Angeles as his muse, showed me—and so many others—new ways of thinking about cities through his vividly and passionately argued prose. Weaving together strands of architecture, urban history, social justice, and ecology, Davis has inspired me like no other author to examine cities critically, from unexpected perspectives and with a fierce point of view. Underlying his outrage at the injustices of the unravelling metropolis is a mordant sense of humor—making him an unbeatable guide as we all ride shotgun through desperate times. 

Little can match the raw power of urban photographer Camilo José Vergara’s images of our culture’s collective built fabric unraveling in plain sight. For more than four decades, Vergara has borne witness, in Detroit, in Newark, in Camden—in some of the most forgotten communities in America—to the devastating physical impacts of social, political, and economic forces gone relentlessly awry. In these chronicles marked by unassumingly brave, first-person pilgrimages to decaying mansions and among toppled public housing towers, Vergara helped me see what kind of mettle it truly takes to get the story straight.

This novel follows four adolescents in the 48 hours preceding September 11, 2001.

The characters are two girls and two boys living in different parts of the United States in very different families. By fully depicting the lives of each character before the world abruptly changed, Baskin shows us how a watershed event changes one’s perspective forever.

My favorite moment comes at the end when a character remembers “that day, a year ago, when nothing else was important to her except fitting in.” Without violence or direct loss to the main characters, Baskin brings home the point that September 11th affected Americans from all across the country.

In the face of tragedy, Baskin shows us how we are all interconnected.

The extreme length of Fall and Rise put me off until my agent Matthew Hamilton persuaded me to take the plunge.

Just as he’d promised, I found myself deeply engaged in the lives and ultimate fates of Mitchell Zuckoff’s large cast of real-life characters, whose personalities, back-stories, and ambitions are rendered with impressive immediacy.

Of course we already know the outcome of this tragic story, yet the book possesses remarkable narrative dynamism. Hovering over most of its pages is the unnerving question, “Which of these people will survive?”

I admired the thorough and bi-partisan approach taken by the 9/11 Commission (authorized by then President George Bush) to examine the international, national, and local ramifications of the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon.

Relying on first-hand testimony and extensive documentation, the commission staff provided valuable insights into the missed signals, mixups, and government failures on many levels that left America open to the worst attack on our homeland since the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

This book is well-written with language that’s easy off the tongue and sweet on the ears. I appreciate the main character, Dèja’s, spunk, and confidence despite her family being unhoused. I also enjoyed how the story’s characters, though from different cultural backgrounds, get along organically while working together on a difficult school assignment.

The ending is satisfying and hopeful. And I truly appreciate the story’s takeaway theme—confronting the past is more empowering than ignoring it.

Maybe I should give a warning with this recommendation—don’t start this book with plans to give it just 15 minutes and then get your beauty sleep.

I stayed up well into the wee hours of the morning reading this powerful true story of survival, loyalty, and courage. It made me feel like I was with Michael and his guide dog, Roselle, as she led him down the stairwell of the North Tower of the World Trade Center on 9/11 after the first plane struck.

This gripping story highlights the bond between a guide dog and his human—and also gives us a glimpse into a day that forever changed America.

The Zero captures the paranoia and confusion following 9/11, before we knew who attacked us or why. The story’s amnesiac investigator stumbles from one confusing clue to the next, much as we all did in those dark days. As he tries to piece together the truth from the literal scraps left behind at the World Trade Center, he also seeks insight into his own identity, and into the nation’s.