100 books like Grave Sight

As much as I love complex, dark protagonists, I adore a lighter side now and then. I found it in this book with the main character, Shelby Nichols. She just makes me laugh.

I even found myself reading sections out loud to my husband, who laughed right along with me. Shelby is a wife and mother, and after being shot in the head, she develops the ability to read people’s minds. Her sudden awareness of what her teenage children and husband are thinking takes the plot up to a whole new level.

This is one ability I’m glad I don’t have. I think I’d rather not know.

My favorite part of this book is the supporting characters. T.J., Dobbs, and Sparky—the wonder dog. Funny, smart, and wise, the two older gents carry the story from beginning to end, taking the town’s new arrival under their protective wings.

It’s Jessie, the new girl in town, who has the psychic ability, but it’s T. J. and Dobbs, who figure out how to put the pieces together. Like all my favorite books, there is mystery, suspense, and romance, but what I really like is the psychic element. It’s different from most.

Eloise Montgomery is my kind of protagonist. She survives a tragedy, suffers a great loss, and, waking up from a coma, finds herself with a new and frightening psychic ability. One that she puts to good use.

I like her grit and determination, along with her moments of doubt and despair. She’s human. A normal, everyday woman is thrust into a life she didn’t expect and is making the best of it—a situation I can identify with. Except for her psychic ability. That I don’t have, but how cool would that be?

Loyalty. Love. Relationships. They are all essential elements in my favorite books, and nowhere are they more present than in this one.

Ann Kinnear, like my other favorite female psychics, is torn between doing what she feels she should and doing what she’d like to do—which is to hide behind closed doors. It’s the same dilemma I would have if I were gifted (or maybe it’s cursed) with an ability like Ann has.

As I had hoped, Ann chooses to make a difference, securing a spot as one of my favorite books.

Woodrell is best known for the ominous, lyrical Winter’s Bone, but I’m such a fan that my favorite Woodrell novel is always the most recent one I’ve re-read. So here’s Give Us a Kiss, his first foray into the wild and rural Ozarks of West Table and Howl County. The novel is also a hard-charging, nuanced look into the life of a mostly unsuccessful writer facing an inner struggle over just how far, if at all, he should get above his raising. It’s a concern for anyone caught between different worlds, and we are fortunate that the autobiographical sinews between author and protagonist were severed before Doyle Redmond spun out of control.

The people in Sweet Mister are broken and derelict, strong and resilient, funny and terrifying. The book opens with overweight thirteen-year-old Shuggie (Sweet Mister) being forced to climb up a drain pipe to break into a building to steal drugs for Red, his mother’s treacherous, drug-addicted boyfriend. We follow through the eyes of Sweet Mister, who doesn’t know who his father is. It’s rumored to be the town’s wealthiest citizen. That rumor, more like fabrication, is told to him in the aftermath of Red’s rage, after he’s torn through the house like a tornado destroying everything in his wake, almost like a fairytale, spinning evermore intricately by Glenda, his adored mother, the most beautiful girl in Missouri. Shug is willing to believe it. Anyone besides Red.  

Shug is in love with his mother, and he wants a better life for her. Better than a life of stealing from other people,… show more.

Here’s another book better known for the excellent film adaption, but the novel actually brings the gritty, sometimes brutal daily life in the rural Ozarks alive in the mind’s eye more vividly than a movie ever could.

Daniel Woodrell’s atmospheric story of a teen daughter’s quest to bring her father back for his court date, dead or alive, is a simple narrative rendered with stark, almost Biblical prose. I particularly appreciated the author’s distinctive language and evocative imagery.

This book is a classic.  It has heart, action, comedy and an awesome Grandpa who is always there with some wise wisdom.  Billy Coleman is a country kid growing up on a farm.  He decides he wants to get two Coonhounds and…well, I don’t want to spoil the tale.

I first read this book at age 12 and have read it once a year since then. If you grew up out in the country, like I did, with wide open skies, a big heart, and a little bit of mischief, this book is for you.  

James Mahaffey is an American physicist who worked in the nuclear industry for many years.

Atomic Accidents is his engaging account of what happens when something goes badly wrong. What I particularly like is that it is written from the perspective of someone who completely understands the science and who is also well informed by his first-hand experience of working with nuclear technology.

Although Mahaffey is clearly a supporter of nuclear research and the nuclear industry, the book presents an objective balanced picture, acknowledging the risks of nuclear technology, but placing the scale of those risks into context. The book is full of interesting stories and offers some reassurance that the nuclear industry is able to learn from the mistakes of the past.

It may be pure fiction, but Harington’s saga of the remote community of Stay More (home, of course, to the Stay Morons) is still the best, most entertaining history of the Ozarks in existence. Beneath the postmodern devices and 1970s-era subversiveness, Harington’s abiding love for the Ozarks and its people shines through. From the backcountry dialect to the intricacies of a century and a half of regional history, it remains – for my money – the best thing ever written about the Ozarks.