The most recommended books about Pennsylvania

The first book in the trilogy, Key of Light, hooked me from the opening page and the rather sassy Malory Price who is driving in a storm to an intriguing dinner invitation and worrying about the bad day she’s just had. A thoroughly delightful woman, a born organizer, with a warrior streak a mile wide who sets off on a quest with her newfound friends to hunt for a mystical key with the power to lift the enchantment cast on three sleeping Celtic demi-goddesses. 

I always love seeing how Nora Roberts crafts a boy meets girl story with a touch of Celtic fantasy. A fun read. A blend of myth, magic, and romance amid the backdrop of a hunt for a mystical key. Who could ask for more?

Simon Finger’s book, The Contagious City, is a wonderful, concise introduction to the politics of public health in early America. By focusing on Philadelphia, a city literally designed by William Penn to be healthier than European cities, Finger shows how a distinctly American view of public health developed even after that original plan failed to achieve its desired results. Finger describes the growth of the medical community in Philadelphia, its trials during the Revolution, and its failures during the 1793 yellow fever epidemic.

Rabbit, Run has astonishing sentence-by-sentence writing, with Updike’s brilliant insights expressed in the most consistently poetic, precise, and surprising phrasing and imagery. I frequently read individual sentences aloud to my wife. I listened to the audiobook when I was in the gym or the car and read the novel in bed and found myself listening to sections I’d already read because the audiobook made me slow down and pay attention to every word.

What’s striking is that none of the characters in Rabbit Run are particularly likable, or at least, no one behaves in a way that is remotely admirable, but the psychological acuity feels as compelling and true as the language. It simply commanded my full attention. I’d only read Rabbit is Rich and am thrilled to have returned to where the series started. 

Cross Her Heart starts with a truly gripping opening – and the story doesn’t slow down from there. 

Family, fear, love, duty, and what happens when you’re willing to risk it all to do the right thing are the main components of this story. 

Bree finds herself restructuring her life and learning a lot about herself in the process. The whole story carries you through some rough patches in Bree’s life and ends with a completely satisfactory finish. There are so many threads to follow into the next book because you really want to see what happens to the characters. It ends well and yet you still want more.

I laughed out loud reading Sara Pritchard’s Crackpots, the story of spunky Ruby Reese and her complicated coming-of-age. This book was a huge influence on the structure of my own novel. Pritchard plays with chronology and point of view in a way that made me think, wow, I didn’t know you could do that. And then, ooh, I want to do that. Lyrical, detailed, and hilarious, this ranks as one of my all-time faves.

A direct inspiration on my book, this is a great espionage thriller set in Philadelphia about a disgraced Revolution-era spy who gets hired by Alexander Hamilton to help against his arch-enemy, Thomas Jefferson, and finds his path intersecting with a farmwife standing up against a frontier uprising.

Liss is a master of the historical form (and a friend, full disclosure!)

Gangsters of Capitalism covers a part of US history that is often deliberately overlooked by Americans, because it clashes with our national myths about ourselves. Katz follows US imperial history from the very end of the 19th century through to the middle of the 20th century, by following the life and career of Smedley Butler, a man who served in the marines for so much of this history. Gangster of Capitalism is in the top five of my favorite books that I have ever read. Katz’s ability to weave a personal biography with sweeping history and how that history still affects us all in the present is superb. 

We think of the American victories at Saratoga in 1777 and Yorktown in 1781 as the decisive battles of the war (and so, in a sense, they were). But in this Pulitzer Prize winner, Fischer makes a strong case that George Washington’s surprising victories at Trenton and Princeton were just as momentous, keeping “the Cause” alive at a moment when the Continental Army was on the verge of dissolution. Fischer provides a vivid account of the flow of battle and the key decisions that gave the Americans their advantage.

This story may seem out of place on a list like this one, but allow me to put this second Pulitzer Prize winner into context.

Set at the climax of the Civil War, this book is at once about the forced adoption of new social ideals and the rules we use to govern ourselves. Lay on top of that foundation a story about generals being too slow to come to grips with much more powerful technologies and the delicate storytelling of Shaara, and you have the makings of an amazing story. 

This is my favorite book that delicately deals with real people amidst failure. Underneath it all is a study of the failure to adapt to a particularly important technology: tiny grooves in the barrels of rifles that spin bullets. It’s a hard lesson, beautifully told.

The central story of this Pulitzer Prize-winning book is the murder of a Seneca man by two white settlers in the backwoods of Pennsylvania in 1722.

It reads like a thriller, while also revealing profound insights about European colonization in North America during the early 18th century. Ironically, the English authorities were inclined to punish the white settlers severely for the crime in order to appease the Five Nations of the Haudenosaunee. The Native American leaders felt differently, however, preferring to forgive the two men.

“Native peoples,” Eustace writes, “subsume issues of guilt and punishment beneath efforts to redress anguish of victims, acknowledge remorse of perpetrators, and above all reestablish communal bonds.” This is a fascinating account of Indian and European views on justice. 

Of course, if you’re talking classic impulse-control-challenged YA heroes, you’re almost obligated to mention Holden Caulfield.

So, okay: Holden Caulfield. But now let’s talk about Earl, who is not the protagonist of Me, Earl, and the Dying Girl, but the protagonist’s incredibly foul-mouthed, incredibly short, incredibly angry, incredibly funny sidekick and creative partner, who will windmill-kick you in the head if you mention his height to him.

Nonetheless, when alerted to the fact that the Girl is indeed Dying, it’s Earl who insists that Greg (Me) step up and be her friend, and it’s Earl who has the moral compass to teach Greg that compassion is more important than dignity. Earl might be a chain-smoking high-school dropout, but he has standards. 

The story of how the Continental Army suffered bitterly through the winter of 1777-78 at Valley Forge has been the subject of many books and the inspiration for many a patriotic myth. In this well-researched history, Bodle dispels many of those myths and carefully explains why the army had to stay so close to Philadelphia, when normally it would have moved further to the interior of Pennsylvania and sent many of its troops home for the winter. He provides a sophisticated account of the relationship between military needs and civilian politics, one that broadens our understanding of the Revolution.

It’s a cliché that America is a land of immigrants, but Mary Kay Zuravleff offers a rich and engaging take on a particular community- Old Believer Russian Orthodox. Through the viewpoint of the family’s first American-born child, she weaves a tale of struggle, grief, and joy.

With Zuravleff’s vivid details and integration of Russian folk tales, I became a time traveler with eyes widened.

You can’t help but root for thirteen-year-old social underdog and theater nerd Nate Foster as he sneaks away from his “boring” hometown of Jankburg, PA, and takes a bus to New York City to audition for the lead role in a Broadway production of E.T., the Musical. Of course, things don’t go according to plan, but Nate’s spunk, humor, and fearlessness somehow get him through his longshot adventure in the big city. Federle’s warm and vivid characterizations and witty writing style make this one a winner for the whole family. (One caveat: Parents bothered by gay themes in middle-grade books—even understated ones, as here—might want to skip this one. Your loss.) Followed by two more: Fix, Six, Seven, Nate! and Nate Expectations. 

This historical novel set in 1943 features brave and curious Annabelle who lives in Wolf Hollow, Pennsylvania. She and her family befriend a man living as a hermit since WWI, and the reader sees how empathy can change a person’s perspective. While featuring issues of bullying, lying, and trust, the vivid imagery from Wolk’s words bring out the beauty in even the ugliest events. The descriptions of farmland, woods, and walks home from school, make readers feel as if a time that has passed is as real as the world outside their front door. 

This is a real battle of wills, between Dr. Viveca Lancaster, newly licensed physician, and Nate Grayson, manager of a newly-founded Michigan town in desperate need of a doctor. He hires her, sight unseen, and when she shows up, he tries to fire her, because he doesn’t want a female doctor, but Viveca is not having that. She’s going to prove herself, as one of the first Black women doctors in 1870s America, and Nate falls for her as a brilliant doctor as much as he does for her as a woman. It’s impossible to go wrong with a Beverly Jenkins book, but this one is extra delicious.

I love cozy mysteries with a witty protagonist who usually discovers the corpse. Clever dialogue in a fashion setting, with wacky supporting characters get me laughing, and a twisty plot I can’t figure out keeps me turning the pages. Designer Dirty Laundry is all of that rolled up into one laugh-out-loud story. I credit this book and series with giving me the impetus to write my debut cozy.

Tinker is an inventive, imaginative, and fun fantasy story. The eponymous main character—a girl genius who works at a scrap yard—is unconventional and incredibly sympathetic; I rooted for her from the start. The intersection of magic, elves, parallel worlds, the setting of the disrupted, and dying on the vine rust-belt city of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (my hometown—yay!) is exceptionally well done. This story is original from start to finish. Spencer's writing is crisp, engaging, and there’s no filler. Every word in this book moves the story forward. If you like fantasy, read Tinker (and the entire Elfhome series). Don’t be put off by (in my humble opinion) the incredibly terrible cover.

My copy—a dog eared and read several times over paperback—has a much better one. The pages in between are what counts, and the story is amazing!

Fostering dogs is an important part of dog rescue, and Achterberg perfectly captures the joy and heartbreak of fostering. Her devotion to dogs became her family’s shared passion, which beautifully demonstrates how when we rescue dogs, they rescue us in return.

I love how the author unabashedly allowed the reader in to see not just the fluffy puppies and cuteness, but the hard work, the mistakes, the difficulties, and ultimately the “how and why” of the important work of fostering. Fostering saves lives, and Another Good Dog is a brilliant testimony to this fact.

This is Updike’s last collection of short stories and suitably enough aging is a frequent theme.

Everything from the bittersweet experience of high school class reunions to the nightly routine of an old man are told in Updike’s sharply observant and richly descriptive prose. He brilliantly elevates the ordinary while recapturing both the fascination and sadness of people thinking back on their experiences, from childhood to past relationships. 

Set in foreign places as well as Updike’s native Pennsylvania, these are stories to read slowly while taking in the always touching prose and getting to know a cast of at once ordinary and but at the same time fascinating characters.