Love Washing the Stones? Readers share 68 books like Washing the Stones...

Devotions is a comprehensive anthology of Mary Oliver’s best work. Oliver is without a doubt the gold standard in nature poetry, and one of the most renowned authors of the genre. It reminds me of all the reasons why she is and will always be my favorite poet, and one of the best poets of the last century. If anyone feels themselves drawn to nature poetry, this book is a must-read.

While Jack Kerouac can arguably be synonymous with the Beat generation, the poems in this collection reveal a lesser-known and seldom seen but poignant side of Kerouac’s legacy. He distills his surroundings into short vignettes, reminiscent of the Beat style and motif, but incorporates a significant amount of nature imagery. They’re beautiful glimpses of the world through the eyes of one of America’s most influential authors.

No Other Life combines three of Gary Young’s books into one volume. There is such unique style and quiet beauty to Young’s work. I am truly inspired by it. He has a knack for capturing the extraordinary in the mundane in brief but deep prose poems that grip the soul. 

Young was one of my professors in college and was a driving force for why I pursued a creative writing degree and chose to continue to write after graduating. His work will always hold a special place in my nature-loving creative heart.

The majority of Sarton’s work is introspective, giving glimpses into a writer’s creative process, a passion for writing, and one’s observations and emotions. This short collection of Sarton’s poems embodies her work as a nature poet without being overwhelmingly so. It’s a great introduction to her work. For a brief time in my life isolated myself for a month in a small cabin in a remote forest to do nothing but write. I read May Sarton and it was as if my experience paralleled her and my struggles validated by her work.

Possibly the best and rarest of all publications about the start of the women’s music movement, this volume was prepared by the students at the University of California at Santa Cruz to serve as a textbook (and record of their experiences) for the first-ever course on feminism and music. Still available to good sleuths who find used copies floating around, the title page is Women in American Music. Women’s Studies, Kresge College, University of California, Santa Cruz, Spring 1975.

The idea for the class was initiated by Karlene Faith, who went on to be an influential producer and distributor; the book she helped edit includes interviews with early Olivia artists who were guest speakers and performers in the class. Before her untimely death, she too was working on a history of Olivia Records.

I recall avidly skimming the text in the library soon after it came out. So many new ideas! I was especially excited with its presentation of the Indigenous management of plant habitats by the judicious use of fire.

From the Preface: “I hope that greater understanding of the stewardship legacy left us by California Indians will foster a paradigm shift in our thinking about the state’s past—particularly with regard to wildland fire.” Slowly, researchers across the Great Plains have begun to understand the complex relationship between climate, litter buildup, and human activity, and this book helped that understanding take root.

Because of obvious limitations—space in the garden, sun, availability, and one’s responsibility to be a conscientious steward during a probably unending California drought—it’s impossible to grow as many roses as one would like. It’s not impossible, however, to content oneself with two or three plants for cutting flowers, and, instead, moon over this comprehensive collection of gorgeous photographs, descriptions of form, petal counts, habits, parentage, and scents. Keep 2,000 roses on the bookshelf. This book is a treasure.

In this exhaustive, deeply researched study, Benjamin Madley examines in grim detail the relentless series of massacres and exterminations of peaceful Native American Indians in California that occurred from 1846 to 1873. During this era, writes Madley, “perhaps 80 percent of all California Indians died.” Survivors, especially children, were often enslaved. 

The brutality is systematic, if not endemic, to the construction of the American empire. Nearly half of the book is comprised of appendices that quantify most known Indian massacres in California during the mid-nineteenth century. (“~April 5, 1846. Number killed: 120-1,000. Location: Close to Reading’s Ranch.”) What emerges is a disturbing portrait of ceaseless violence inflicted by pioneers and settlers, by business owners and hired thugs, and by the state and federal governments against large, sophisticated human populations that had lived in place for thousands of years.

The nearly comprehensive genocide remains rarely invoked in modern times, no matter… show more.

I stumbled on this book in a free box outside a bookstore when I was a teenager and the family I had moved across the country to be with had collapsed.

My sisters and stepmother moved out of state, my brother moved to California, and my dad, after borrowing my student loan money for truck driving school, went over the road.

Bloodsport was rain-rippled—with a gigantic, dried fly smashed flat in the middle, sliding like a secret toy over the page.

An entire world opened up. I felt no less alone, but the experience changed my understanding of realism, the mythic, and the surreal: a book of immense oddness about a father and son journey up an apocalyptic river, toward Ratnose, the leader of a motorcycle gang.

Surely the Gold Rush is one of the first things we learn about the West, but who were these people? Where did they come from? Susan Johnson is a great storyteller, and this story is peopled with men and women from across the globe, radicals and racists, Chinese, Mexicans, Germans, Irish, and everyone else, how they worked, loved, and made a life.