The most recommended books about Texas

In 1973, Smeltertown was razed to the ground. For the vibrant community of Mexican Americans who had lived there for generations, that meant abandoning their homes, their social gathering spaces, and their way of life.

Smeltertown was destroyed because public health research revealed that the industrial smelter around which the town formed was spewing tons of toxic lead into the air and poisoning the developing brains of the Mexican-American children who lived there.

This book tells the heartbreaking story of how that community first took shape on the Texas-Mexico border, how it grew to become a bustling suburb of El Paso, and how the lead poisoning ultimately spelled its destruction. The concept of environmental racism wouldn’t come along until decades later; but in hindsight, this town was a textbook example of how environmental threats to health disproportionately impact communities of color.   

Are we doomed to meet the same fate as our ancestors? That’s the threat looming over failed baseball player and self-destructive alcoholic Stephan Detals, whose father and grandfather died by suicide on their 39th birthdays.

With Stephan’s 39th birthday coming in a few days, he returns to his hometown to learn the truth about his father and grandfather’s deaths in hope of avoiding their fatal destinies. Sojka creates a twisty mystery with fascinating characters and Texas gothic. He also keeps up the tension as the fateful date approaches.

I felt Sojka did a wonderful job evoking the Texas landscape and the experience of a professional baseball player, which made me feel more engaged to the story and characters. This book kept me turning pages to its climax.

Based in Galveston, Texas, Claire Abelard works as a ghost tour guide as a cover for her real job for The Bureau of Historical Preservation. As a high-level sensitive, her responsibilities are to protect the projections (ghosts) under her care, although she frequently answers the call of rogue projections. While assigned to give a private tour to a ghost-hunting group, she receives reports that rogue projections are disappearing.

Ghost Agents and the subsequent two books were page-turners. I don’t normally subscribe to newsletters for additional materials, but I especially wanted to discover more once the series ended. The projections (ghosts) are entertaining, the historical elements are well-researched and support the plot. I particularly enjoyed the family dynamics and the romance that develops for the main character.

There’s a special pleasure in reading novels set in the place you’ve long lived, and there’s also a special pleasure—at least for me!—in diving into subcultures with strong and strange beliefs. Owen Egerton delivers on both in Hollow. Set in the Austin far removed from tech money and hip new restaurants, Hollow follows Oliver Bonds, a former religious studies professor whose life unraveled after the death of his young son. Oliver finds distraction in Hollow Earth theory and the idea a whole different world lies inside the one we currently occupy. Hollow broke my heart in the best sort of way with its exploration of grief, regret, and the lengths we go to in order to survive being human.

During the flu pandemic of 1918, the author, Katherine Anne Porter, became deathly ill but recovered. Published over twenty years later, Pale Horse, Pale Rider is her fictionalized account about falling in love with a soldier during the war, then fighting to survive the influenza outbreak. I love that Porter drew from her own experience to write this short novel. (She disliked the term novella.) Pale Horse, Pale Rider is a beautifully written story about a devastating disease.

Karr's memoir diverges from my other recommendations insofar as it’s a memoir and features just one woman’s voice.

I found this book while living in Madrid over a decade ago and remember sneaking out into the living room late at night to read it. Karr is a master storyteller and a master memoirist – highly relatable even if you’ve never struggled with alcoholism. 

I often wonder what made Sam write a character like Carter Mahoney, but all I can say is I’m so happy she did. This is not the book to go into with sunshine and rainbows on the brain because you will get the exact opposite, but in the best way possible. If you love cruel heroes that make you question your own sanity while reading like I do, this is the perfect read for you.

Brammer’s novel has resonated throughout my career, warning of almost inevitable disillusionment with a political powerhouse. Brammer had served as a top aide to Lyndon Johnson, on whom he based Arthur Fenstemaker, a star as bright as Penn Warren’s Willie Stark. The Gay Place spoke to me even more directly, focusing on minor politicos and their ambitions, frailties, and humanity. And the book drove home, through a pervading sadness, the anomie that rises from disillusionment. Brammer’s “Flea Circus” metaphor continues to amuse and bum me.

A big fat novel full of sly, rueful, knowing humor, great, unpredictable characters, and most surprising plot turns, Mr. Texas made me laugh (which I love), breathe fast, and stay up reading late into the night.

Long as it is, it sped by, and I missed it after I was done. It’s also rich with the deep knowledge Wright, a distinguished New Yorker writer and longtime Texas resident, has of the state: the ranchers, the legislators, the families, the hard land left behind after the oil wells it once supported have disappeared.

We root for the maverick protagonist and hold our breath when he risks defeat. In an epilogue, Wright describes the very long road this book had to publication. What luck that it finally got there.

Finn O’Donnell is a hero, an Afghanistan veteran, and an Army sniper who buys a ranch in Texas and plans to settle down for a peaceful life. 

That changes when his former spotter, Callie Brewster, arrives seeking a place to stay, seeking safety for herself and her young nephew.

Both suffer some PTSD, which I’ve written about. It’s a subject very meaningful to me because one of my grandfathers, a Missouri farm boy, served in the Pacific during World War II, primarily in the Philippines, and came home with PTSD, although it was not yet called such. His experiences affected the rest of his life, and so reading another work with characters working through the same caught my heart.

I rejoiced for the characters, wept with them, and became very involved in their story. I wished it could continue and not end.