The most recommended farm books

Action-packed and fast-moving, What We Harvest is one of those books that you can’t put down. A horrible (sentient?) blight infecting crops, animals, and people is a terrifying foe, and at times this book is brutal. But its main character and her friends are the most resilient, resourceful crew I’ve encountered in a long time. I rooted for them so hard.

This exquisitely written, dark saga of family intrigue is worth reading over and over, and I do.

The protagonist’s devotion to family and the land that feed her, both physically and emotionally, is rich and consuming.

Events are seen from her point of view and her antagonist’s, giving opposing slants that generate an exquisite tension throughout the book.

This story was instrumental in my education as a writer, as was the author, both showing the use of deep interiority in every character, and a setting that made me live within the story.

I loved Marsha Skrypuch’s book, Winterkill, because Marsha's plot-driven, middle-grade historical novels explore tough topics.

This one—about the Holodomor (intentional famine directed by Stalin in 1931/2 Ukraine)—is uncomfortably current even though it's set 90 years ago. My own mother, left Ukraine a year earlier, while my kulak grandfather stayed behind and somehow survived the famine… hiding out in barns to escape arrest. Millions were not so lucky.

Told from 12-year-old Nyl's point of view, the novel has a fascinating Canadian connection through Alice, her father, and Canadian-built tractors. The story of Ukraine's suffering is part of my own family's story and I appreciate Marsha's well-researched efforts to keep it alive.

Wendell Berry writes in multiple forms—poetry, essays, novels—and also practices sustainable farming in rural Kentucky. The World Ending Fire is a compilation of essays spanning over fifty years of his work and displays his wide-ranging intellect and care for the natural world. He emphasizes individual responsibility and stewardship of the earth, but his tone never becomes pedantic or preachy. Instead, his passion and conviction are contagious, and I always feel a sense of gratitude and clarity when I read his words. 

I first read this classic story in my teens and was instantly besotted by Hardy’s farming world and the characters he filled it with. It is still the one I would take with me to my desert island if I was only allowed a single book to keep me company.

And what company I’d be in. Bathsheba Everdene is the ultimate in strong female protagonists and she was carving her path as a farmer in a man’s world long before she inspired me to write about my own feisty heroine, Jude Gray. 

As a student I fell in love with Bathsheba’s steady shepherd, Gabriel Oak, and their pitted, frustrating but ultimately wonderful relationship is still one of the best love stories I’ve lost myself in.

Released in 2018, Foe is a book recommended to me by a friend who said – Oh, you like trippy fiction, check this out. The premise of the book has been done before – Invasion of the Body Snatchers et al. You got a guy who has a double he didn’t agree to or know about at first. But the twist here is something that grabs you by the throat and makes you stop after some of the chapters and go – man that’s not right- before reading on. I started reading this at night. Put it aside and finished it during the day in one sitting. It was good. But it also made my stomach clench uncomfortably and sent me down too many rabbit holes of thought. It is very entertaining and you will not be unhappy spending your time with this tale.

Single and self-sufficient Dottie O’Connell farms her 300 acres with strength and independence, not needing anyone. When she finds herself the primary caretaker to her friend’s young daughter Mattie after the girl is orphaned by a tragic fire, Dottie suddenly is thrust into guardianship with a young person she had no desire to raise. While I admired Dottie for taking on such a life-changing responsibility, at times I couldn’t fathom Dottie’s choices involving the girl. Thankfully, the author peels away the layers of Dottie’s wounds, allowing us at least to understand her while maybe not agreeing with her. Each of us has a Dottie story that influences our decisions for good or for bad. 

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.

In a story as mournful as a country song, a homeless big black dog resolves to lie down and never get up again. But he does find happiness, although it takes several tries. Themes of disappointment, loneliness, sorrow, yearning, and love are interwoven in the poetic text. As a bonus, Orville gleans people’s dearest wishes just by sniffing them. Watercolor and ink illustrations illuminate this poignant and powerful bond between a dog and his person.

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.

This is a beloved read-aloud in our family. My 6-year-old loved how Charlotte saved Wilbur’s life and the true, lasting friendship between the two.

She was always entertained by Charlotte’s speeches and extensive vocabulary. The bittersweet ending is more sweet than bitter for young kids, and the beautiful friendship gets a *chef’s kiss*.

Any book that starts with “Where’s Papa going with that axe?” will surely hold readers’ attention! 

We are blessed right now with an abundance of farmers who have good stories to tell. Three hill farmers stand out: John Lewis-Stempel, James Rebanks, and Patrick Laurie, whose Native is so lyrical that it reads at times like a prose poem by Seamus Heaney. Laurie’s book is an account, season by season, of his relationship with a roughish bit of land in southwest Scotland. It is part love affair with his small farm, and the curlews and native Galloway cattle in which he has an obsessional interest, and part critique of modern farming and the industrial timber production that threatens much of the open moorland. Native is worth reading just for the quality of the prose, even if you’re not remotely interested in countryside matters.

On a family farm, an old truck works long and hard. As the truck grows older, so does the young girl whose family owns the farm. When the truck is finally too worn out to work anymore, it rests and dreams. When the girl grows up and becomes a farmer, she works on the old truck until, Vroom, once again the truck is a working truck, helping the farmer on the farm. Created by two brothers who both wrote and illustrated the book (using more than 250 different stamps that they made) this book honors persistence and family.

Mudbound is about post-WWII in the Jim Crow south. It tells the stories of two returning soldiers in a muddy farm setting. I was raised on a dairy farm with plenty of mud, so I easily identified with the setting. The situation of the two men, one White, one Black, and their families' struggles, physically with the constant mud, and emotionally with the politics of both the era and the place, were graphic. It was a book that was difficult to put down and also difficult to read. In ways I was reminded of 12 Years A Slave.

David Lurie, an English professor, seduces an undergraduate after he tires of sleeping with sex workers. He proceeds to lose his job, his social status, his home, and his dignity. Along the way, he also loses his solipsism and his vanity. I’ve never messed around with a student, thank God, but the story is true to my life experience nonetheless. When you make mistakes, and suffer losses that seem to erase who you are, you discover a self you didn’t know was there.

James Rebanks was born in England’s Lake District into a family who valued the hard work and ancient traditions of shepherding in the high hills. Later, he winds up at Oxford, seemingly headed for a life of financial success in the city, and realizes that while the world at large may value such success, he values the quiet, steady, solitary shepherd’s life and chooses that instead. He beautifully depicts a life steeped in tradition, honoring the seasons, and filled with characters. I loved learning about a slice of life that I knew little about.

All of Robert Heinlein's YA novels are good (better, in my opinion, than his adult novels), but this one has special meaning for me because it was the first book I ever read about colonizing an uninhabited world. At the time it was published in 1950 I was sixteen and had been enthusiastic about the possibility of space travel for four years, since long before the general public was familiar with it; but all the space fiction I knew of was about mere adventure, usually adventure focused on fighting. The idea that families could someday settle a new planet--and, despite danger and hardship, accomplish something of immense importance to the future of humankind--made a strong impression on me and became one of my deepest convictions.

Writing on a theme that is near and dear to my heart, that being Old Florida, the author of the award-winning, The Yearling, accurately portrays her life living on Cross Creek in rural Central Florida. After buying an old orange grove, sight unseen, this divorced Washington, DC writer brought it back to life, and made a life for herself living among the shy and suspicious people on the creek. Rawlings’ accurate use of local dialect and effective nuances in this beautiful vignette of stories is almost poetic, and magically transports the reader to the creek’s mossy banks. Though the writing and her viewpoints are antiquated in places, Cross Creek remains a classic, and a true work of art to be treasured. 

This is a photo-illustrated version of Jon Katz’s bestselling memoir life with dogs on a picturesque upstate New York farm. I fell immediately for this charming picture book, where each dog has their own important job. Border collie Rose herds sheep. Second border collie Izzy (a rescue with a sad-then-happy history) is a therapy dog who visits hospitals and nursing homes. Tough-looking Frieda guards the farm. But what is Lenore’s job (goes the refrain)? We finally learn that the essential job of fun-loving black lab Lenore is simply to bring love and joy to everyone. This book is basically the equivalent of a warm cup of tea and a quilt on a blustery day.

I loved The Four Winds because it made me feel a connection to my grandmothers who lived through the Great Depression. They never talked about it to me at all, but the ramifications were seen in their actions. I believe when you can make that kind of connection, it’s a triumph to the author. A great story.