100 books like We Are All Perfectly Fine

This thoughtful, well-written memoir of a medical doctor and historian reminded me of why we doctors practice medicine.

The story of her years at Laguna Honda, a long-term rehabilitation hospital for indigent patients, presented me with a kind of medical practice as different as possible from the intensive care I myself practiced: Slow Medicine, which promotes close observation and deep listening, just sitting together, allowing time to do at least some of the healing. Laguna Honda was a place of hospitality, community, and charity.

I take comfort in knowing that there is still a place for these values in today’s highly fragmented, technologized, and speeded-up “healthcare system.” I was particularly moved by Sweet’s reflectiveness and vibrant humanity as she allowed “God’s Hotel” to heal her even as it—and she—healed her patients. 

Michele Harper’s memoir is beautifully written, and her compassion and empathy shine through.

I was deeply moved by the way in which she carried that clear-eyed compassion forward from a trauma-ridden childhood through her medical training—where she, as a Black woman, experienced both racism and sexism—and into her life as an emergency room physician. I admired her forthrightness in calling out these injustices as she saw and experienced them while still maintaining her own humanity. I was inspired by her integrity and by the way she showed us, through her own life and the lives of her patients, that, as she says in the epilogue, “[b]rokenness can be a remarkable gift.” 

I loved this memoir because it is a story of incredible resilience.

I was deeply moved by the author’s ability to recount the stark facts of the heartbreaking intergenerational trauma she suffered while showing how her early life experiences of deprivation and abuse helped pave the way for her compassionate work with patients and populations. I nodded in recognition and sometimes laughed out loud at her account of her Catholic school education, which I could relate to my own experience.

I was awestruck by her grit and determination to rise above her difficult circumstances without any kind of model and little or no encouragement. I was inspired by her ability to find love and a fulfilling career after such a rocky start, and I’m sure her patients appreciate the depth of her compassion.  

This novel by a neurologist/palliative care physician appealed to me because of its highly idiosyncratic yet spot-on accounts of many things I experienced in my own medical training.

I found her writing style challenging because of the novel’s highly fragmented structure, but I appreciated her trenchant observations and stunning language. Like other authors I’ve recommended, her protagonist comes from a devastatingly traumatic background. I could really relate to this fictional medical trainee’s struggles with despair and suicidality.

Reading this book was like a dash of ice water to the face, and I pondered it for weeks after I finished it.  

Now that’s a question that can be answered in a few sentences. Here’s goes…

This is among the finest examples of the true-crime genre. It’s an enthralling, pacey, and ingeniously structured account of the murders committed on both sides of the Atlantic by Dr. Neill Cream, a Scottish-born Canadian whose medical career served as camouflage for his psychopathic misogyny.

Macabre though the subject matter is, Jobb never wallows in that side of things, preferring to use the story as a vehicle for his vivid and insightful portrait of late nineteenth-century society.

Nobody for my dollar moves between front story and back story better than the Canadian author Alice Munro, whose 2013 Nobel Prize was recognition not only for the brilliance of her career but also for the possibilities of the short story as a form.

The final story in the collection Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage, “The Bear Came Over the Mountain,” is among the most lasting fiction I’ve read, a meditation on memory and its limitations, as well as the compromises people make to help those they love and have hurt.

This isn’t the easiest of reads, but it is the Real Thing – the work of the man who discovered the Triangle itself.

I love its density and the fact that I can come back to it over and over again and find new ideas. Dr Karpman’s long experience as a working therapist speaks out from every page. 

Speaking of doing hard things, this excellent book contextualizes peak performance in sports and life. It straddles and bridges these two worlds, helping me understand why my training is a chance to develop life skills that work in any arena. And it uses plenty of evidence-based science to do that!

I love that Magness uses basic principles of mindfulness, a world I know well, but in new applications. The book is full of doable exercises that wouldn’t be out of place in a yoga or meditation class.

Joni Mitchell’s career extended long after the 1960s, but that was the decade when she burst on the scene with her distinctive voice and incredible song-writing and musical abilities. This book provides in-depth details of how she went from being an unknown blonde girl from Saskatchewan to an undisputed folk music superstar with songs like no one else. As Leonard Cohen put it: “She was like a storm.” To present Joni’s story, the author conducted interviews with Mitchell and her childhood friends, and with the many others who played important roles in her life—including Cohen, Joan Baez, Judy Collins, and David Crosby. Along the way, David Yaffe reveals the backstory behind all of Joni’s songs. It’s a fascinating book.

A Canadian of Polish and Ojibwe descent, you can tell that Talaga is an experienced journalist, as this moving book is a combination of clear narrative and incisive research.

Starting with Canada, but then widening her lens to Indigenous communities across the world, Talaga shows how the violence of colonialism, the rupture from land and community, and the loss of heritage – compounded by socioeconomic deprivation – has resulted in an epidemic of youth suicide and generational trauma across Indigenous communities.

Talaga’s analysis is devastating, but also gives hope of a possible future reconciliation, through examples of resilience and the recovery of Indigenous ways of knowing and being.