Fans pick 100 books like Water

I love this book because its title reflects how I feel about water: protective. Young Nokomis, a girl of the indigenous Ojibwe people, learns that humans are born of water, and it is sacred. She says that the “river’s rhythm runs through my veins.” I feel the same way.

Finding ways to protect it is a large undertaking, but there are simple ways too. Praying, especially in song, is one. Nokomis reminds us that all of us, humans, animals, and elements, are interconnected. I agree with this sentiment: We Are One. Her prayer is mine. We must stand strong and work together, pray, and sing together as one of the everyday activities to acknowledge the sacredness of water.

One look at the cover of this visually stunning, expertly crafted nonfiction picture book sparks the notion that the elusive giant squid has much more to teach us than what meets the eye.

Next, this opening line from the prologue plunges the reader into the squid’s mysterious world so the rest of the book can fulfill the cover’s promise:

"Down, down in the depths of the sunless sea, deep, deep in the cold, cold dark, creatures, strange and fearsome, lurk."

I was hooked from the get-go, and I know Fleming and Rohmann’s innovative pairing of poetic expository text with darkly arresting illustrations—with every word and brushstroke remaining faithful to the facts—will engage any reader lucky enough to pick up this book.

Awe, beauty, and a satisfying amount of information—The Blue Whale has it all. I love the curious child we follow through the book, as well as the visual comparisons that turn astonishing facts about the world’s largest living creature into subtly humorous images that I can relate to on a more personal level. In the final pages of the book, the child—our surrogate adventurer—falls asleep and dreams, amazed by a world that contains such tremendous creatures. 

To me, this book feels like a walk along the beach. I pick up each poem, sink into the swirls and splashes of color, and let my mind wander. Books that encourage such meandering strolls near the ocean have a special place in my heart: the idea for my horseshoe crab book started on just such a walk. Water Sings Blue is a great reminder that you never know what wonders you will discover when you go outside and let your curiosity guide you. 

Author Brahma Chellaney is India’s most prominent geopolitical expert. He lives in Delhi, at the epicenter of the battle for water.

India’s water crises are numerous. For starters, India’s groundwater is running out, and there’s no way to replenish it. Water means survival, and across India, water shortages are critical, not just for people but also for agriculture and industry. Few solutions are in sight at this point.

Chellaney’s book considers the much larger picture of how Asian nations will "share" water sources—if that is at all possible. Due to flooding and sea-level rise, a third of Bangladesh may disappear in the coming decades.

The shrinking of the Aral Sea is arguably the greatest manmade environmental disaster of the 20th century. Kazakh writer Rollan Seisenbayev uses the catastrophe as the backdrop for his novel, exploring the impact on local people through the eyes of a fisherman and his son who are confronted not only with the vanishing sea but as a result also the disappearance of their livelihood and future. The Dead Wander in the Desert was long-listed for the PEN Translation Prize and deserves to be much more widely read. 

As you can already tell, I love a good travelogue. And as someone who was drawn to the Great Lakes originally via canoe, I found a fellow-traveler in Margaret Wooster.

Her vantage point comes from the hull of her boat, as she canoes and portages her way around the rivers that drain into Lake Ontario, Lake Erie, and the St. Lawrence River. In canoeing these waterscapes, she recounts the many centuries of history of the area but also shares her perspective as a conservationist when it comes to the challenges of protecting the Lakes and their rivers in our current moment.

Her attention to ecological detail, her rapt descriptions of wetlands riches, and her local storytelling invoke the intwined human and aquatic histories of this region. 

In this memoir Scott Harrison, founder of Charity: Water, tells of his transformation from a party-seeking youth to a man of grace and influence. Through his charity, he has brought water and hope to millions.

I am deeply inspired by his journey and how he overcame past mistakes to find a new purpose. I knew Scott during my early days in New York City. I support his cause not only because I respect him personally but also because of his approach to philanthropy. Charity: Water applies innovation to a noble cause.

I find it interesting when first-person unreliable narrators pose a moral dilemma for the reader: how far we sympathise with a character who may or may not be culpable of a crime.

From the very opening of the novel, we are told, "Tonight will be my first night under house arrest." Ruth Ardingly has just been released from prison to serve out a sentence of house arrest for arson and suspected murder (after the death of her seven-year-old grandson) at her farm, The Well. Returning to The Well, Ruth must piece together the tragedy that shattered her marriage and tore her family apart, amid the backdrop of a drought-ridden country, where, miraculously, The Well has water.

The novel is told retrospectively by Grandmother Ruth, whose narrative reliability is impacted by both memory and grief. 

By comparing the struggles against water charges in Ireland with struggles over the extraction of unconventional gas in Australia, Madelaine Moore provides a fascinating account of common roots of resistance underpinning different forms of water grabbing.

Drawing on feminist Social Reproduction Theory she clearly demonstrates how these moments of contestation not only contest profit-making with water, but capitalist reproduction as a whole.