100 books like Two Old Women

This is more historical fiction than nonfiction, but the backmatter contains notes, a bibliography, and a decent index.

It details the work of four Civil War-era women who made significant contributions to the war effort on both sides. Flamboyant teenager Belle Boyd and scheming temptress Rose O’Neal Greenhow spied for the South; Emma Edmonds enlisted in the Union Army as Frank Thompson; and secret abolitionist Elizabeth Van Lew managed an espionage ring under the noses of her Richmond neighbors.

I cheered each one of them through the entire book, wondering if I could have been as strong and resolute as they were. They didn’t cower in their homes. They stood up and made their lives count in an era when the overwhelming majority of women did no such thing.

No list like this would be complete without a great mountaineering book.

The story of North America’s deadliest climbing disaster, in 1967, serves as a reminder how quickly even well-planned adventure can turn into tragedy. Hall, the five-year-old son of the park's superintendent at the time of the events he describes, puts you squarely into the boots and onto the crampons of these mountaineers.

Having climbed Denali myself once, with a buddy, under atrocious conditions, this book again brought home the fact that small decisions can have unforseen, lethal consequences, especially on a mountain that brews its own weather. I have seen snow and clouds roll in and blanket the view within thirty minutes, up there in the “death zone.”   

I know this book’s journalist co-author, so I may be a bit biased. But I’ve also had scary grizzly encounters—many during my arctic traverse—and few books capture the terror as does this account of a twenty-five-year-old blinded permanently in a bear attack.

Dan Bigley had not embarked on a grand adventure; he was on a trail through the woods, returning from a day of salmon fishing. Like me, Dan used to take troubled kids into the outdoors, so I easily identify with him. His true adventure, and true courage, shows in how he mended his life and even gave it new meaning.

After five reconstructive surgeries, he reconnected with a woman he’d fallen for just before the trauma and resumed his role as a caring member of his community.  

For five months, the wildlife biologist and his filmmaker wife, on skis and on foot, shadowed the Porcupine caribou herd’s spring migration from boreal forest wintering grounds to their nursery on Alaska’s tussock-studded tundra—“North America’s Serengeti,” or, to the Gwich’in Indians, who depend on the animals for subsistence and spiritual nourishment, “The Place Where Life Begins.”

The couple’s journey impresses me as a long-distance feat, and with its poetic rendering, but foremost with its conservation angle. They raised awareness of fossil fuel extraction that threatens lifeways, both the Gwich’in’s and the caribou’s; after their trip, they ventured to Washington D.C. to lobby for the wildlife refuge’s protection.

The book’s highlight for me is the couple tentbound, whispering—out of consideration—amidst thousands of birthing caribou cows.

Hoping to gain perspective on his troubled marriage, the deaths of friends, and the vagaries of middle age, charter-boat captain Lynn Schooler commits to a walkabout along the “Lost Coast,” one of Southeast Alaska’s wildest stretches.

What begins as a voyage of introspection soon becomes a grueling march—through pelting rain, jungle-like brush, and ankle-busting boulder fields—that climaxes in a long face-off with a rogue bear and the terrifying crossing of a meltwater torrent.

Just getting to this trail-less wilderness in Glacier Bay National Park tests Schooler's mettle; waves pound his small vessel, and boat-swallowing currents threaten his entry into Lituya Bay. On my Brooks Range traverse, I too was moving steadily toward home (in my case, Nome) a knowledge that powered each step and oar stroke.

The Fishers’ nonfiction book is a starting point for understanding why and how matriarchies have evolved, succeeded, failed, endured.

It’s a scholarly work, meticulously researched, and can be heavy reading at times. But it’s also engaging and fascinating. I used it while researching my book to give me a better understanding of how matriarchies work and why they still work – or don’t work - today. 

This is a new dystopian matriarchal novel, first in a series, that I’ve just discovered. Interestingly, it’s been described as the opposite of The Handmaid’s Tale.

The story is of a female-controlled society in which men are kept imprisoned and used as breeders. Neen, a female scientist who is interviewing men for their potential as sperm donors, begins to question the status quo when some of the men she meets don’t fit her preconceptions.

I was attracted to the book because its story is comparable to my book, but the tone and world-building are completely different. I loved the plot twists and the focus on ethical dilemmas.

Speaking of women in charge, this is the memoir of a retired U.S. Army brigadier general. She is also a pilot, skydiver, steeplechase jockey, and flight surgeon. The book details her experiences as a prisoner of war in Iraq in 1991 after her helicopter was shot down during a search and rescue mission.

The main thing I can say about Cornum’s story is, Wow! She was able to rise through the ranks in a time when the U.S. military still kept women contained, excluding them from opportunities for which they were well-qualified. Her time in Irag makes for a heart-pounding story filled with danger, pain, endurance, and survival.

I thought of Gen. Cornum more than once as I was building my lead character in my book, President Alanna Olaffson.

First published in 1940, Hawaiian Mythology is an astonishingly comprehensive compilation of native Hawaiian stories and beliefs that, had it not been for the systematic – even dogged – efforts of people like Martha Beckwith may have never survived to today. This is a book to dip into, especially if you find yourself in Polynesia. The stories are factual, often unembellished, which allows you a glimpse into the soul of Pacific peoples. This book also explores the connections between (remote) Hawaii and other island groups in the western Pacific whence its people came, bearing oral memories that seeded the geography of Hawaii and directed the nature of its human occupation, probably hundreds of years before Europeans even knew the Pacific Ocean existed.

With a title like Genuine Deceit, how could I not pick this book? How can deceit be genuine? The suspense begins in chapter one and doesn’t let up until the end.

The characters are well-developed, the story is perfectly paced to keep a reader’s interest, and there are plenty of red herrings, but not enough to reveal the truth until the last pages. The touch of romance between the main character and a former Navy SEAL is an added plus.