Love The Winter Fortress? Readers share 100 books like The Winter Fortress...

Our kids need nature as part of a healthy childhood. In this groundbreaking book, Louv describes the consequences of the indoor child, how spending time within the confines of four walls can be a kind of prison, removing children from active outdoor play and nature connection.

He coined the phrase “Nature Deficit Disorder” to illustrate the human costs of being disconnected from nature, a rise in anxiety, more obesity, less resiliency, and, in the end, less healthy children for a progressively less healthy world.

This book was my favorite book for most of my life, so it holds a special place in my heart. It was only bumped by Well Witched (Verdigris Deep). 

This is the book I read over and over to my two children. One of whom loved to act out being the indomitable Bilbo Baggins. The prose is beautiful, the plot is tight, the adventure is fun, the wonder is wondrous. Who doesn’t love forest elves? And the world-building is amazing. I guess we all know that was Tolkien’s specialty!

I will argue with anyone that this is the best story Tolkien ever wrote. The prose is beautiful to read. It doesn’t wander, it doesn’t get off track, there’s a humor, and let’s not forget the dragon, and all packed into 310 pages!

This book is a collection of true short stories about the misadventures of 22 different climbers on New Hampshire’s iconic Presidential Range, particularly Mount Washington, between 1849 and 1994.

One of my other guidebooks cherry-picks the best routes in New Hampshire, one of my favorite places to stand atop a peak, which is why I first picked up this book. (I went to college in New Hampshire and then lived there for another 20+ years.)

The stories drive home how these exposed summits can surprise even experienced hikers in tragic ways. Nick Howe is a good writer, who has done his research. If you have an interest in climbing mountains or New England history, this is a must-read.

Mount Everest is arguably the location of the most epic adventures ever.

This is my favorite book about Everest, perhaps because the author, David Breashears, is a friend who shared many Thanksgiving dinners with me during the thick of his climbing and high-altitude film career. He is most well-known for producing the popular IMAX film, Everest.

This is Breashear’s autobiography. It includes his perspective on the 1996 Everest tragedy, which he not only miraculously survived but also saved the lives of other climbers. I also enjoyed the book, Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer, which is about that same Everest episode and had much broader commercial success. Krakauer wrote the forward to this book.

However, I found this book one to be more personal, more revealing. After reading it, you’ll admire Breashears as much as Krakauer and I do.

As it turns out, the Germans never got close to building an atomic bomb—largely because of some major mistakes at the outset (one of them made by their top nuclear chemist because of a crisis in his love life). Powers, a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, created some controversy because of his portrayal of the man who didn’t build the German bomb. That controversy continues. 

I once had to physically separate the author from his critics and threaten to remove disruptive protesters from the audience when I moderated a session on the history of the German bomb at the Smithsonian.  

A secret intelligence program with Nazi scientists is described in such colorful detail that this nonfiction book riveted my attention.

What was most compelling for me was the story of how these scientists and technological experts were utilized by American ingenuity. A fascinating and well-researched history book always holds my interest.  

Over the last two centuries, human per capita energy usage has grown 800 percent, while the population has also grown to the same degree. Life has changed profoundly due to our adoption of fossil fuels—but puzzlingly few people are curious to understand energy’s role in society and history. Smil fills the void to overflowing with this detailed account of how people have harvested energy from their environments, and how doing so has changed the ways they live.

In between other projects, I have been conducting research for a non-fiction book about the particular kinds of parallel universe that every story world creates. And that's how I came across Reality+.

The question as to whether we are living in a simulation is beloved of moviegoers, stoners, and undergraduates (quite a large intersection in that Venn diagram). It's also worthy of serious philosophical and scientific inquiry. David J Chalmers is a philosopher, and his book treats the question with entertaining rigour.

The book goes beyond the simulation hypothesis, though, to examine the philosophical implications of our inevitable colonisation of the virtual realm. At the heart of Chalmers' argument is a rejection of the opposition between the real and the simulated.

Lived experience, Chalmers claims, is real experience, as freighted with value and possibility in the virtual world as it is out here in the probably real, possibly simulated universe.

But can you fight the future? Isn’t it inevitable? This is often how tech companies try to make us think, and that anyone who opposes “progress” is a Luddite. But, as Patrick Sale makes clear in this excellent and heartbreaking historical study, the original Luddites—a protest movement that swept the industrial heartland of 19th Century England—were not anti-technology; they merely thought technology should serve people, not profit. Faced with the destruction of their livelihoods and their traditional way of life, they destroyed machines and burnt factories because that was the only outlet they had for their rage and desperation. And when the “inevitable march of progress” comes to trample you too, you may see that they had a point.

Kara Swisher has spent decades writing about and reporting on the tech kings of the world, including Elon Musk, Bill Gates, and others. Her insights into the rise of tech giants from the early 1990s to the present illuminate the forces that have shaped our world

I loved Swisher’s insight into these powerful men. She’s blunt, funny, and direct in how she exposes their flaws, and the book feels like it’s written by someone who understands and is fed up with these white, controlling male demigods of tech. I imagine the book’s title refers to how she’s burning all bridges by telling all.

As a journalist who was raised pre-internet, I could deeply relate to Swisher’s outrage in lines such as “What struck me was how easily people could be manipulated by fear and rage, and how facts could be destroyed without repercussions.”