The most recommended farm books

Sierra Blue is the story of a girl sent to live with her aunt, who has a horse farm. I found this interesting because the main character can see the auras of people and animals, and it gives her insight into how they are feeling and how to help them. There is one scene that was gripping and kept me turning pages past my bedtime.

As a person who started reading because of her love of horses, this was a great read.

It wasn’t just the cities that felt the hard hand of self-imposed totalitarianism in the UK during World War II. Oh, no, the farms as well were brought into line, as they really had to be, to enable the British to eat without having reliable supplies coming by sea. 

This book, which was also a BBC television series, involves three moderns, two men and a woman, all historians or archeologists, taking over an old and somewhat run-down farm and trying to run it using what was available, and enduring what was imposed, during the Second World War. 

It is a fascinating story of making do, making it yourself, or doing without, not just applicable to my own writing projects, but to the broader human condition under hardship. 

This book is the first retelling that I remember reading, so in some ways, it’s the standard by which I judge all others. Jane Smiley’s Pulitzer-Prize-winning novel imagines King Lear in a contemporary setting with an aging farmer signing over his land to his three daughters.

What I find most remarkable about this project is how Smiley captures the original play's melancholic spirit. There’s a sense of longing for a different past and sequence of events that might have prevented all this familial heartache. 

Unlike the novels of warfare and suffering, The Moonflower Vine is an intimate portrait of family life, set in 1920s Missouri. It was a bestseller when it was first published in the early 1960s, but has since suffered neglect. But it richly rewards the reader with its heartfelt depiction of three sisters and their aging parents, whose passions, aspirations, and failures are portrayed with complex sensitivity. I don’t think historical novels have to focus on historical events – capturing the spirit of an era is just as important. And this novel took me into rural life of a hundred years ago with great generosity.

You’d have a hard time finding a funnier, more captivating first-person narrator than D.J. Swank. Growing up on her family’s farm, hoisting hay bales, and playing pick-up football with her brothers, it’s no wonder D.J. has the strength, ability, and desire to play on her high school’s football team. The two things I love most about this book are D.J.’s sheer joy in physical movement and Murdock’s depiction of how the hard work required to master sports skills can build self-confidence and a sense of achievement in young people. The characters are a bit older than those in most middle-grade books, but with nothing more controversial than the drinking of a beer, this is a book kids in the upper range of middle grade will love.

Every discussion about the evolution of writing in ‘the West’ has to start with Willa Cather, who was the first writer from the west to be awarded a major literary award when she won the Pulitzer Prize for One of Ours, which isn’t even one of her five best novels. Cather wrote openly about alcoholism, domestic violence, and other painful topics, transforming western writing from cardboard cutout characters to real people. My Ántonia has become an American classic, not just in western literature but in all literature. My Ántonia is told from the point of view of a young farm boy who falls in love with the enchanting Ántonia, and it’s beautifully written, taking us into the emotional heart of youth and idealism in the West.

I could choose any of Eric Carle’s books purely for his beautiful, timeless illustrations, but my choice this time is Dream Snow. It is a lift-the-flap book about a farmer who falls asleep on Christmas Eve and wakes up just in time to deliver Christmas presents to his animals. They are called One, Two, Three, Four, and Five. The book has a lovely festive atmosphere and anyone who has come home tired from playing in the snow and fallen asleep in front of the fire will immediately recognise the cosy feeling of this book.  

This touching tale, set on a farm, captures the timeless desire we all have to give the perfect gift to those we love. Rob learns the true meaning of love as he gives of himself, and finds a way to surprise his father. Buck has a beautiful way of showing rather than telling, and pulls us in with hope and vulnerability. A gift of love is the best gift of all, and Christmas is the perfect time to share this tender family story.

This book takes on class, gender, and addiction, plus a host of other contemporary issues facing rural America and the nation—and Smarsh still manages to craft a compelling, human memoir.

This book might be the antidote to all the easy, anodyne, partisan conclusions the talking heads offer about rural America. As someone who grew up in rural America but now lives in a small city on the West Coast, I felt challenged reading this memoir.

Smarsh is the best kind of rabble-rouser; she’s telling it straight no matter who is listening. 

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.