The most recommended homesteading books

I had never heard of Rinker Buck—nor of C-Span Book TV, for that matter—when one day, flipping through channels, I landed on him giving a talk about his then-new book, The Oregon Trail. I was smitten. As soon as his talk ended, I rushed to my local library to check out a copy.

Part travelogue, part memoir, part history lesson, The Oregon Trail had me mesmerized from the first page. “Exceptional” is not too strong a word to describe Buck’s skill as a writer and his extraordinary 2000-mile journey in a real covered wagon pulled by mules, tracing the pioneers’ arduous trek.

His insights, humor, and a personality that “doesn’t suffer fools gladly” provide a true understanding of the difficulty such a journey posed 150 years ago.

Essentially this is an homage to the American Cowboy as it tells of his demise as a lifestyle. While some say this one’s hard to read because of its episodic format, I found it the ideal setting for telling the background of the Cowboy’s life and times. Life doesn’t happen in such a structured way as most stories depict. As Monty fights against the progress that will consume him, the reader sees its inevitability. Lament it if you will, it’s a forward-moving engine that will not be stopped.

The Outlander is a gripping historical fiction novel set in the Canadian Rockies.

The story follows Mary Boulton, a young woman on the run from her dangerous husband. As Mary navigates the rugged wilderness, she encounters a cast of memorable characters and faces numerous trials.

I loved its evocative and atmospheric writing, transporting me to the untamed Rocky Mountains in the early 20th century. Adamson's portrayal of Mary as a strong and resourceful protagonist captivated me. The land is brutal and beautiful at one, as are the characters she encounters.

The Outlander is a compelling tale of survival, filled with suspense, surprising twists and turns, and a captivating exploration of the human spirit. I could not put this down.

This book does a fine job of laying out the complex plots and cross-plots of a most complicated New Mexico Territory of the 1870s.

The full spectrum of politics, murders, and factions can be overwhelming to a first-time student. There are clearly too many players in the story for a reader to grasp the overarching drama. Mr. Wallis found a way to guide the reader across this challenging terrain without shortcuts. 

Oh, Was, how I love your relentlessly bleak, depressing sadness.

This is a strangely inventive novel that twines reality and fantasy into a brutal, desolate, yet gorgeous story of pain and survival. Told from the points of view of numerous characters, each story is tethered in some way to The Wizard of Oz, that venerable fable about good versus evil in the search for home.

Ryman introduces us to a main trio of characters whose lives are all equally harrowing–Dorothy Gael (the imagined inspiration for The Wizard of Oz heroine and the victim of familial sexual abuse), Frances Gumm (who becomes the tragic Judy Garland), and Jonathan (an actor experiencing AIDS-related dementia)–whose stories he intricately weaves together like a master craftsman. And while the novel is not a “happy” read by any stretch of the imagination, what has stayed with me throughout the past thirty years is its… show more.

Moustakis makes a stunning debut in this spare but beautiful story of a young Korean War veteran and a risk-taking young woman who meet in Anchorage, Alaska, and decide to marry and take up homesteading.

The setting and time period are perfect for exploring the possibilities and limits of love between two people who have strong personalities yet respect each other enough to stay together and try to understand what they need.

I admired how delicately Moustakis infused this tale of a determined romance with events of the time: the aftermath of a war many Americans were uncertain about and Alaska on the cusp of statehood. I’m really looking forward to her next novel.

Perhaps Arizona’s most widely recognized event, the thirty seconds of gunfight at O.K. Corral in Tombstone isn’t the main emphasis in Epitaph. That belongs to Russell’s engrossing depictions of the intensely personal relationships between the Earp brothers, their girlfriends and wives, their routines, and addictions.

As I found out in researching for my novel, if you get the accurate facts about the personalities and actions of the good and the bad people, who actually lived in the Old West, you’re well on the way to writing a novel.  

John Philip Clum started the newspaper in Tombstone and called it Epitaph, because “No tombstone is complete without its epitaph.” To complete your reading about the Old West, include Epitaph.

Because…I love language, and Timberlake spins out one gorgeous sentence after another.

Set in 1871, the story follows Georgie Burkhardt as she tracks her big sister, who’s run away with “pigeoners”, a seedy bunch who follow the migration of passenger pigeons (which once existed in the millions but were hunted to extinction). Georgie’s voice is tough, funny, and wildly original, just like the West itself.

There’s plenty of mystery and suspense, but for me, it’s about the language! Here’s the glorious ending: “I say let all the world be alive and overwhelmingly so. Let the sky be pressed to bursting with wings, beaks, pumping hearts and driving muscles. Let it be noisy. Let it be a mess. Then let me find my allotted space. Let me feel how I bump up against every other living thing on this earth.”

Nolan, an Englishman who researched from his home country, has long been considered the world authority on Billy the Kid.

It can still be said that all research on Billy begins with Nolan, who died in 2022. His book undertakes the massive quest to explain the Lincoln County War in detail and to reveal the endless cast of characters interwoven throughout the struggle.

Nolan’s supple mind has delivered unto us provocative motives for Billy’s actions and thereby expanded our understanding of the Kid’s mind. Without Nolan, historians would be left with mere nuggets of information and not necessarily hold the larger story in perspective.

Roderick Nash’s brilliantly argued and thoroughly researched book was the bedrock of a course I designed on American Environmental Literature while teaching humanities at a community college. As a published scholar, I deeply appreciate the logic of Nash’s arguments and the historical sweep of his narrative.

Nash chronicles the prevailing opinions of early “settlers” as they encountered and then began fulfilling the biblical injunction to “tame” the “new Eden” they had discovered: their reactions to the Native people, whom they readily labeled “savages” (i.e., not European civilized); the amazing and dangerous wildlife, especially in the American West; and the huge battles beginning in the 1960s to preserve what was then still untamed on the North American continent.