Books
YEAR IN REVIEW 2016: Books
Haunting Dust Bowl novel by Annie Bell among year’s best books
I’m not sure why, but I couldn’t stop touching “I Will Send Rain” by Rae Meadows when I first got it. The cover pulled at me, but the story? Oh my, it’s the tale of a family of four during the Dust Bowl years. The mother, Annie Bell, is trying desperately to hold her family together while her daughter dreams a dangerous dream, her son is mute and her husband slowly goes mad. There’s a surprise in here, a fifth main character, and that’s the dust. Do. Not. Miss. This. Book.
Not normally a big fan of fictionalized biographies, “Mrs. Houdini” by Victoria Kelly nonetheless captivated me with its magic. It’s a tale of love and illusion, believing, trust, and it includes a gauzy ending that might seem implausible but who knows? Hint: if you can bear it, save your gift card. This book comes out in paperback in March.
Generally speaking, I’ll read anything by out author Emma Donoghue. She has a way of turning a tiny, true event into a novel that sticks in your head and “The Wonder” is no exception. It’s the story of a very confident, almost haughty nurse who served with Florence Nightingale and seems to think that stint confers some sort of specialness. When she’s hired to watch a child who claims not to eat or drink, the nurse thinks the girl is a scammer, but, of course, there’s so much more to the story and an ending that’s so perfect, it’s stunning. Write this title down. It’s another book you can’t miss.
A vision of the apocalypse is at root in “The Fireman” by Joe Hill. It’s a novel about a virus that’s infected the world, and if you catch it, you burn. Poof, up in flames, and it’s pitting neighbor against neighbor and husband against wife. There’s a surprising romance in this book, thrills, a chase, humor and horror, and here’s a hint: there are shades of Hill’s father in here. Guess who?
For my fifth pick, I debated: “Britt-Marie Was Here” or “And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer,” both by Fredrik Backman? I finally decided on the latter, the story of life and loss, forgetting and trying hard not to. But here’s the thing to know: the first go-around won’t make much sense. Turn around and read it again — it’s really short, so no problem — and bring tissues that time. It’s truly a lovely book.
Hint: “Britt-Marie” is a close, very close second-pick.
NONFICTION
As I was looking over the list of things I read, I was surprised to remember how much I enjoyed “Neither Snow nor Rain” by Devin Leonard. Overall, this book is about the U.S. Postal Service and its history. The thing that makes this book so much fun, though, is that Leonard also includes so many side stories that it becomes more of a general history that’s light and fun. Fans of Bill Bryson, take note and find this book.
Another something that’s informative and a little on the light side is “Playing Dead” by Elizabeth Greenwood. I mean, how many times a week does the average person wish they could chuck it all and disappear somewhere? Greenwood looks into that: how it’s done, what it’s like and the impacts it has on loved ones. You might change your mind. Or you might want to disappear even more. Either way, this is a can’t miss.
As a Baby Boomer, “They Left Us Everything” by Plum Johnson particularly resonated with me, which is why it really has to be on this list. Johnson’s parents were both elderly and had lived in their oversized house for decades. When they died in relatively fast succesion, Johnson and her brothers were tasked with cleaning up, but not just the house. They also had memories to examine and scrub. This is a book for daughters, particularly, but also for anyone who’s facing the downsizing of a home or end-of-life caretaking.
In a political year, you might guess that an abundance of political books might be published, and you’d be right. My pick for the best in that category is “Nixon’s Gamble” by Ray Locker, who takes a brief look at Nixon’s early career before digging into the moves that the President made, starting on the day of his inauguration. Even if you think you know what happened nearly half a century ago, you don’t. For history lovers of any age or place, this is an eye-opener.
I don’t think I would have liked “Another Day in the Death of America” by Gary Younge quite as much if it had been laser-focused. Nope, Younge took one random day in recent years, and he writes about the 10 children who died of gunshot wounds in the U.S. on that day. It’s that randomness that’s so shocking, especially when you consider the statistic he cites: an average of seven children die by gun every day in America. The circumstances Younge found make this book even more impactful.
CHILDREN’S/YOUNG ADULT BOOKS
Putting “The Bill the Cat Story” by Berkley Breathed on the kids best of list might be cheating a little because this book is only partly something for kids. True, the kiddoes will love the illustrations and older children might laugh at the storyline, but this book is every bit for adults as it is for the younger set. Grown-ups will love the message inside this book; fans of Breathed’s “Bloom County” will appreciate knowing about Binkley’s first days with Bill, and the insider peek at Opus’ home. I don’t say this lightly: it’s a book for the whole family.
I’m not sure if I was ready for its light breeziness, but “Being Jazz” by Jazz Jennings was the right book at the right time when I read it last summer. You might have seen Jennings on the news; as a transgender teen, she’s become somewhat of a spokesperson for trans rights and acceptance. Her book is gossipy, bubbly and truthful — she proactively answers questions that teens want to know, without embarrassment. Hint: this is a great book for adults, too.
Another book that caught me by surprise (because I loved it so much) was “Mama Loved to Worry” by Maryann Weidt, illustrated by Rachael Balsaitis. In the same vein as the Pecos Bill, Slue-Foot Sue and Paul Bunyan stories you loved as a kid, this is a book set on a farm, with a Mama whose tasks grow larger in both action and in fable. The pictures are as much fun as the story, and you’ll love it just as much as does your child, especially when it’s read aloud.
There’s a lot of cleverness inside “The Night Parade” by Kathryn Tanquary — enough to keep a lover of darkness up all night. It’s the story of a Japanese-American girl who tries to fit in with the “in” crowd by disrespecting her ancestors, and yes, her actions have scary repercussions. Older middle schoolers not prone to nightmares will love this, as will younger young adults who are just stepping into this genre. Hint: save your gift cards. This book comes out in paperback in January.
And finally, “This is Where It Ends” by Marieke Nijkamp is a chillingly unexpected tale of a school shooting and heroism, with realism and timeliness that will shock you. That’s not counting the story itself, told in minute-by-minute increments that will make you forget you’re not reading a real account of a tragedy. Again, this isn’t just a YA book. It’s something adults should also want to read.
Books for Pride by various authors
c.2026, various publishers
$18.95 – $29.00
How many times have you marched so far this month? Seems like there’s always a reason to gather and walk during Pride, but save some time for yourself, too. You’ll want to reflect, rest, and read these great books about living your best Pride month.
No doubt, you’ve thought once or twice about stepping away from society as it is, and moving somewhere more accepting. So read “Qtopia: A Memoir of Love, Land, and Liberation” by Juda Bennett (University of Wisconsin Press, $18.95), the story of doing exactly that, and how it turned out.
Back in the ‘70s, Bennett fled the suburbs and all it represented, and went “back to the land,” to a commune named Lavender Hill. Some of the places he’d lived before then had promised way more than they delivered, but Lavender Hill was different – more rural, more open, more queer, much better. But you know all good things must end, and that includes “queer utopia.” The only thing left was to re-enter the mainstream, a journey unto itself, and one worth reading.
Speaking of memoirs, in “Gay Mormon Dad” by Chad Anderson, art by Remy Burke (Graphic Mundi, $21.99), you’ll read about Anderson’s life as a husband (to a woman), a father, and a man who seemingly had it all but it wasn’t right, and he wasn’t happy. He was gay, but acknowledging it, telling his family and his church family, could mean the loss of everything he loved. It’s a story that may be familiar to you, in some way, and it’s a quick read.
For most of his life, Joseph Osmundson dreamed about getting pregnant and having a family. The former didn’t happen and, as for the latter, as he writes in his memoir, “Spawning Season: An Experiment in Queer Parenthood” (Bloomsbury, $27.99) the journey for a gay man to become a father can have plenty of roadblocks.
When two women approach Osmundson to be a sperm donor, it appears that his ultimate dreams are about to come true. Things go swimmingly – until race enters the conversation. Are the words “donor” and “dad” the same? Read this powerful book, and think about it.
And finally, if parenthood as a gay person is something that’s a case of maybe-later, then “Good Morning Moon: A Snapshot of an American Family” by Brad Gooch (Harper, $29) is a book to find. It’s the story of late-life love, surrogacy, and identity as Gooch learns about himself as he learns to be a good Dad. This is a great book for older fathers, and anyone who’s on the parental fence, later in life.
If these great books aren’t enough for you, or if you’re looking for something different for Pride, then head to your favorite bookstore or library and ask the staff there to help you find your next best read. They’ve got a lot of books to put in your hands, a lot of sunny afternoons full of relaxing and promise, so march on out, get a new book, and happy Pride!
Books
David Archuleta on Mormon faith, ‘Idol,’ more in new book
Unique memoir details religious upbringing, coming out
‘Devout: Losing My Faith to Find Myself’
By David Archuleta
c.2026, Gallery Books
$29/290 pages
So just make up your mind already.
The decision is very much in your control – or, at least that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’ll be your future, your path, and seizing it may not just be necessary, but mandatory. It’s your life, and no one can live it for you. As in the new memoir “Devout” by David Archuleta, that goes for career and for love, too.

Born to parents who both had musical careers before they wed, David Archuleta remembers an early childhood growing up in a Hispanic Mormon community in Florida, where kin was always nearby. He was six when his parents moved the immediate family to Utah; the first thing he remembers about that is the snow, and how it was so cold, it burned.
Because music was in his blood, Archuleta grew up singing and dancing, often with his mother whom he calls “my rock.” It was his father, however, who encouraged him to perform; first, with a gentle push, then a shove toward a career Archuleta didn’t really want.
But he did want to make his father happy, so he went along with the contests, embarrassing meet-and-greets with stars, and uncomfortable introductions. Slowly, though, performing became more fun, and Archuleta made friends.
Meanwhile, back home, everything was breaking apart. A “family friend” whom Archuleta refuses to name accused his father of abuse. He was exonerated, but it affected the family’s closeness and they stopped being affectionate.
That was a painful backdrop to Archuleta’s soaring career, his appearances on Star Search, friendships with other rising stars, his runner-up spot on “American Idol,” tours, and recording contracts. His father kept pushing him.
But there was one thing missing.
Since he was a boy, Archuleta had known that he was attracted to men, but his Mormon faith taught him that that was unacceptable. Kissing, his abuelita said, was wrong. He tried hard to date girls, in the most chaste way. Anything past that was against God – and anything at all with a man was unthinkable.
Though it absolutely favors his personal life and dwells on it a bit too much, “Devout” strikes an otherwise nice balance between that, author David Archuleta’s career, his sexuality, and his faith. The latter two are loaded with controversy.
You don’t need to be Mormon to fully understand the faith part; Archuleta offers non-Mormons a brief education, so readers can see the importance of the Church’s teachings in his life and why he felt the need to abandon it as his understanding of his bisexuality grew. It’s emotionally raw and honest, but also so respectful that it almost bears re-reading. Such candor and the heart-on-his-sleeve tone you’ll sense are features in the entire book, alongside Archuleta’s family’s struggles and his learning to strike out alone.
It’s harmonious in more ways than one, and fans will be happy.
So, too, will anyone who wants a unique memoir with a dose of faith, or someone who’s an “American Idol”watcher. Find “Devout” and be sure to share. You won’t mind.
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Books
‘Mighty Real’ explores history of LGBTQ music
From Judas Priest to Whitney, something for every taste
‘Mighty Real: A History of LGBTQ Music, 1969-2000’
By Barry Walters
c.2026, Viking
$35/496 pages
Step, step, tap, back step.
Shimmy in a circle, left hand waving over your head, shake your tail feathers, repeat to the beat. Once there was a time when you could do any dance in your sleep, but it’s been a while. So read “Mighty Real” by Barry Walters, and see if your toes don’t tap.

Fifty-seven years after Stonewall, and here we are: LGBTQ musicians still face scrutiny for their sexuality because, says Walters, music isn’t created for gay listeners. No problem: LGBTQ artists and writers have often penned lyrics carefully in order to say what can’t be said, “coding” songs for gay audiences that straight (and ignorant) listeners can dance to and enjoy with apparent obliviousness.
Walters offers “just a few” examples.
Lou Reed sang about trans people in the late ‘60s and offered a rallying song for the Gay Liberation Front in 1972, the latter of which felt like a message to a then-11-year-old Walters. Janis Joplin claimed she was straight, but she had several girlfriends. Motown singers often offered sometimes-ambiguous lyrics.
John Lennon’s hand placement on the back cover of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band made Walters begin to understand that he was different from other boys.
David Bowie is on his list, of course, as is Bette Midler, Elton John, Donna Summer, and Queen. You’ll find Judas Priest here, Green Day, and punk music. The Village People are included in this book, also Grace Jones, Duran Duran, and Cher, Whitney, Melissa, Latifah, and the lyrics from several blockbuster movies.
Two of Prince’s band members were lesbians, and they heavily influenced his albums. Diana Ross’s “I’m Coming Out” cemented her position in LGBTQ culture, and Michael Jackson’s inclusion here takes much careful consideration.
Read about Olivia Newton-John and the B52s. And then there’s Sylvester, for whom Walters has a soft spot in his heart. Sylvester’s death still makes Walters cry.
In his preface, author and music writer Barry Walters points out that music is what you make it and that it’s interpreted differently by each individual. To that end, this book naturally consists of preferential history and personal opinions about singers, bands, albums, and songs.
Agree or disagree. That’s where much of the appeal lies in “Mighty Real.”
Here, Walters wraps his memories around his choices, giving readers room for their own views, memories, and list making. Music-loving readers might also be surprised to note who’s not on Walters’ list – there aren’t many country performers here, for example, and the overall list focuses entirely on music from roughly 1968 to the year 2000, mostly on the kinds of songs you’ll want at the club or party. Again, discuss, and curate your own playlist.
This is a hefty book, but the chapters are browse-able and generally short enough to read in under five minutes. It’s nostalgic, yet also serious in the history it presents. This is the kind of book you want to leave near your album collection, or wherever you get your tunes. But finding “Mighty Real” is your first step.
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