The best books about Maine

I typically don’t read YA, but I’d just finished writing a book about searching for an ancient shipwreck, so I thought, why not see what someone else did with this idea? And I’m so glad I did. Otherwise I would have missed out on this compelling inner journey of a teenager who tries on adult responsibility and explores who she wants to be: someone who flees, breaks down, acts out, steps up, reaches for meaningful connection, or (and) loves.

Lucy and her ex, William, leave New York for a seaside house in Maine at the start of the pandemic.

Not much happens and a lot happens, which is Strout’s singular gift, to infuse the everyday with meaning. She touches on everything—slow dawning fears of the pandemic, missing her daughters, the murder of George Floyd and subsequent riots, the storming of the Capitol, her confusion about rekindling love with William.

I could relate to all of it, and I especially loved the reminder to embrace the life you’ve been given. 

Addiction, grief, generational trauma… all these things exist in Talty’s work. But his prose lifts all that heaviness and makes it not only bearable, but often strangely beautiful.

His characters are raw and real, and his skill with dialogue is enviable. I love the way the book is structured as a collection of linked stories, each one informing and contributing to the rest. The book is set on the Penobscot reservation in Maine, an area often overlooked both in literature and reality.

Talty is a natural storyteller, and his voice rings with wisdom, dry humor, and honesty, giving readers rare insight into this community. 

The premise is straightforward: A dome settles over the small town of Chester’s Mill. The reason why is a bit of a McGuffin, but what is compelling is King’s brilliant exploration of the breakdown of society. Plenty of characters are willing to work together to get through the crisis, but then there are those who want to exploit the situation for their own gain. As with many King novels, it’s the worst aspects of human nature that are the true monster. Plus, King keeps his foot on the gas for the entire length of this massive tome; it never lets up.

In lyrical prose, Rich brings the reader into her real experience as a woman living in the Maine woods during the 1930s.

Rich’s narrative often reads like an adventure story—black bears, raging snowstorms—but some of my favorite scenes center around the endless daily chores necessary to a life in the wilderness. I also love Rich’s stories of the logging camps that surround her and her husband’s homestead.

Her riveting descriptions of the annual river drives, during which logs would be floated from the forest down to the lumber and paper mills, recall a way of life nearly unfathomable for those of us in the modern age. And if all that weren’t enough, Rich’s singular, humorous voice is simply a delight to read. 

In The Last Thing He Told Me, Laura Dave proves that your main characters don’t have to be super-sleuths or hard-boiled P.I.’s to solve a mystery.

They just have to be people you care about, who find themselves in situations that force them to be resourceful. In Laura Dave's book, the characters act and sound like good friends, and that makes the story even more gripping. 

This first book in a cozy mystery series which is built around an old bed and breakfast on Cranberry Island off the coast of Maine was all I needed to hear to start flipping pages.

Natalie runs The Gray Whale Inn, but discovers a huge resort is planned for the area. Since it’s serious competition for her B&B, the developer is to blame, and Nat must clear her name after he’s found murdered on the rocks.

It’s a light mystery and a nice pre-bedtime read.

Who can resist a heroine who climbs a tree barefoot (in growing winds) and leaps to an attic window to hear one of her favorite authors speak? Not me! I’m a big Jane Austen fan and K.L. Going was able to capture the spirit and wit of her work in this wonderfully layered and romantic tale. (No worries if you or middle grade students you know are not familiar with Austen—the story stands on its own.)  

Just like in my book, the story is set in Maine and the protagonist’s parents are divorced. There are multiple loves stories in this book, and I adored every one of them. I cried big happy tears in the end. I bet you will too.

Personalities collide during a Block Island summer. While I enjoyed all three point-of-view characters, I laughed out loud at Anthony the author’s “head-writing;” he described a scene in front of him as if he were writing a novel. Tongue just slightly in cheek, I felt like Moore was poking fun at the novelist’s eye—while simultaneously using it as shorthand to show us Anthony’s view.

The Islanders came out only a few months before my book. Though both novels can be considered “beach reads,” they are each much more than just a fluffy happily-ever-after throwaway. An island makes a very convenient metaphor; for our lucky characters, it is actually their whole world—even if it’s not forever, or as long as it lasts, but “just for the summer.”

JS Scott writes the best billionaires. Every time she releases a new book or series, I gobble them up. This series is no different.

First, Dante is a tortured romance hero that is easy to love. His guilt over the death of his partner and his injury make me want to hug him close – which is exactly what Sarah Baxter wants to do! Except she can’t because she’s his doctor and she lives by her ethics. I love the connection the two of them have and how they have to help one another in their love. This book is sizzling and steamy with romance and intrigue to keep the pages turning!

Even though Jewett wrote the stories in this book in the late 1800s, there is a timeless feeling to her prose that reverberates today.

I love Jewett’s attention to and reverence for the natural beauty that surrounds the fictional town of Dunnet Landing. Her descriptions of the Maine coastline—a blend of craggy rocks, forest, meadows, and sea—are visceral, sensory, and alluring. Jewett also nicely captures the hardworking, humorous, quietly resilient spirit of the year-round residents of Dunnet Landing, with a particularly keen and kind eye toward her female characters.

Her care for the everyday rituals of life, the small moments that make up an existence, are lovingly rendered and evocative. There’s a reason this is a Maine classic. 

Here If You Need Me is a non-fiction memoir I read years ago on a whim. It still sticks with me. A woman with four children is happily married to a State trooper training to be a minister. When he dies suddenly, she goes on to become a minister herself, working with search and rescue missions in the Maine woods while raising her children. Her intimate knowledge of grief, her vulnerability, and compassion, coupled with a life of service and family, moved me so deeply that I often call upon the memory of this book in my life to metaphorically “get down on the floor with those who weep, and give them tea if they want it.”

I was deeply moved by Poor Your Soul, Mira Ptacin’s beautifully-wrought memoir about the grief of losing first her brother, and then her unborn child. So I knew I was in good hands when I opened her engaging, compassionate portrait of the denizens of Camp Etna, the once-famous epicenter of the American Spiritualist movement. Shifting seamlessly between the settlement’s grand history in the late 1800s and its more modest 21st-century existence, Ptacin profiles psychics and mediums of all stripes, and reports on her own experiences of the paranormal with humor, intelligence, and grace. 

Will and are wonderful characters, childhood lovers who try to make a go of it again as adults. Since I am very much interested in how our past choices shape our current lives, I was drawn to this book right away. From first love to the pain of lost love, and then its possible return, NS Perkins does a great job showing the past vs present and how suffering has changed Will and Violet, and how the passage of time has perhaps healed some of that suffering. It’s all here; complicated and often painful family dynamics, mental health trouble, and the melodrama of high school romance!  

Olive Kitteridge is one of my favorite fictional characters—not because she’s likable (she often isn’t), but because she feels so real.

She is impatient, stubborn, often downright caustic. But she can also be softhearted, sensitive, and insightful. In many ways, Olive reminds me of some of the best Maine women I know, capturing the New England spirit of hard work and blunt language that seamlessly coexists with tenderness and humor.

Strout’s other characters in this book are just as relatable, and she does an incredible job of showing another quality prevalent throughout Maine: keeping your secrets and emotions to yourself, rather than airing them publicly. 

When I think of Maine, I think of mill towns. When I think of mill towns, I think of Empire Falls. And to consider Russo’s titular town is to consider what happens to a community when its once-lucrative mills are abandoned.

I have witnessed it repeatedly through the years, all around the state of Maine—first our mills go out of business, then the towns that grew around those mills gradually, inexorably decline. Russo captures this struggle, creating characters as real as the millworkers I grew up with.

He also emphasizes a strange thing that happens in these blue-collar communities: even though the people who live there know their town will never be as it once was, most of them still can’t bring themselves to leave. 

Genre fiction tends to lean on tropes and be somewhat predictable, particularly thrillers (I have yet to read a Robin Cook novel in which I didn’t figure out the villain halfway through the book)—but in her debut mystery, YA and popular culture writer Kat Rosenfeld subverts all that and give us a genuinely original tale of greed, envy, treachery, and murder with well-drawn characters and a mastery of setting.  The greatest trick she pulls is leading you to believe that you’re reading one kind of story, before pulling a switcheroo that changes everything—and believe me when I say, you won’t see it coming.

John Connolly is simply a terrific writer. In this Detective Charlie Parker novel, the Maine woods are a character in themselves—sinister, overbearing, and almost certainly harbouring—you guessed it—real evil. Connolly’s Charlie Parker is haunted—literally—and dangerous. He’s a complex and darkly charismatic figure that I find compelling. The Wrath of Angels has at its core the battle between Good and Evil, but it is played out by imperfect characters in a very spooky atmosphere. It has all the ingredients of a horror novel, doesn’t it? But John Connolly manages darker themes believably and again, for me, it mixes genres beautifully—and believe me, that’s not easy.

Although a suspense novel rather than a mystery, this one utilizes plenty of tricks to keep you enthralled and guessing. It starts with a “Strangers on a Train” kind of premise, the exchanging of murders by people who just met. Then it takes off, morphing into unexpected incarnations, each one exciting and satisfying.  If you become a fan, and I’m betting you will, be warned. Swanson uses similar plot developments in his other books. This is by far his best one.

Megan has been transparent about the fact that Behind the Red Door is not the most popular of her books, but it’s my personal favorite!

Fern Douglas is out of the loop: a missing woman shows up on the news whose famous kidnapping two decades ago—and subsequent return—everyone seems to have heard about. But Fern has no memory of that story; she only knows that she has seen the woman’s face before, and she comes to fear that she might have somehow been involved in what happened to her.

This book has one of the best portrayals of chronic anxiety I’ve read, and one of the most twisted and f-ed up stories, which I absolutely tore through. Read it, and prepare to be chilled to the bone.