What is your favorite book?
In an attempt to answer, I’m unpacking mine by genre over the next few months. This is the second installment of this series, and if you want to read about my picks for Modern Fiction from last month, check out this Stack.
The Salt Path by Raynor Winn
The Comfort of Crows by Margaret Renkl
Wintering by Katherine May
Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson
Becoming by Michelle Obama
The Undocumented Americans by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio
The Fire This Time: A New Generation Speaks About Race, edited by Jesmyn Ward
The Salt Path by Raynor Winn
After losing their home and livelihood, and with Moth receiving a terminal diagnosis, Raynor Winn and her husband make the impulsive decision to walk the 630-mile South West Coast Path, which wends from North Devon through Cornwall and into Dorset. With only the most basic supplies and almost no money, they embark on a journey of survival, resilience, and rediscovery. Along the rugged coastline, they face the elements, hunger, and social invisibility as homeless walkers, all while fighting against Moth's deteriorating health. Yet as is often true with these sorts of adventures, the physical challenge actually begins to improve Moth's condition. Through their grueling trek, the couple finds a new perspective on home, belonging, and what truly matters, ultimately discovering that sometimes when you lose everything, you find yourself.
The Comfort of Crows by Margaret Renkl
I loved this book so much that it made it into two Stacks last year. One, a meditation on the wild and wonted winter, and another, a reflection on life & death in the backyard in the spring. With bite-sized meditations, Renkl crafts what Tish Harrison Warren might call a "liturgy of the ordinary." She draws readers close, whispering revelations about beauty hiding in plain sight—not in distant vistas, but here in our backyards. Renkl's words gave me a gentle nudge to embrace the gift of now.
Wintering by Katherine May
Katherine May offers a profound meditation on those inevitable fallow periods in our lives. She weaves personal narrative with natural observation, exploring how winter—both literal and metaphorical—isn't something merely to be endured but embraced as essential. May guides us through her own "wintering" after illness and burnout forced her to retreat from everyday life, drawing wisdom from Nordic cultures, hibernating animals, and ancient rituals that honor darkness rather than fear it. What emerges is a gentle manifesto for resting when we need to, accepting our natural cycles of retreat and return, and finding unexpected gifts in these seemingly barren seasons. As a part of my placemaking revolution, May's insights arrived precisely right on time—another reminder that there is purpose in the pause, restoration in the darkness, and that spring always follows winter's necessary work.
Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson
A chronicle of Stevenson’s unflinching battle against our broken criminal justice system, particularly in the Deep South. Where, fresh out of Harvard Law, he founded the Equal Justice Initiative in Alabama, dedicating himself to defending those abandoned by society—the poor, wrongfully condemned, and disproportionately people of color. Following his Harvard education, Stevenson founded the Equal Justice Initiative in Alabama, dedicating his life to those our society has abandoned—the poor, the wrongfully convicted, and disproportionately people of color.
When I taught high schoolers, we read this memoir with Harper Lee's classic with incredible effect on all of us: students who approached To Kill A Mockingbird as merely historical suddenly confronted how the same institutional inequities that condemned Tom Robinson continue destroying lives today. The pairing transformed our classroom discussions from comfortable historical analysis to urgent moral interrogation about whether we are loving our neighbors well. This memoir shows that the study of literature isn't simply an appreciation of craft, but it compels us to ask the big questions about justice that remain unanswered right here in our own backyard.
Becoming by Michelle Obama
This piece draws us into Michelle’s journey from Chicago's South Side to the White House with remarkable candor. What resonated most deeply with me was her unvarnished portrayal of balancing professional ambition with motherhood—pumping in between work meetings, carrying the mental load of doctor appointments, and confronting the guilt that accompanies every choice. These stories matter because they shine light on what countless working mothers experience, but an experience we rarely see reflected in public figures of her stature. Michelle's reflections on finding purpose beyond titles and expectations remind working moms like me that the best work happens by showing up for those we love and the work we love, even when it's complicated.
The Undocumented Americans by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio
This should be required reading for all Americans. Merging searing journalism with deeply personal narrative, Villavicencio defies the sanitized immigrant stories we're often fed. As one of the first undocumented students at Harvard, she takes us beyond stereotypes into the complex lives of undocumented Americans across the country—from the Ground Zero cleanup workers denied benefits despite paltry working conditions to the botanica healers providing care when conventional medicine isn't accessible.
This is easily one of the most challenging reads I’ve ever read, its pages heavy with trauma, resilience, and the constant fear of deportation that shapes the daily existence of so many of our neighbors. Yet the same unflinching truth-telling that makes it a tough read also contributes to its profound importance; Villavicencio refuses to serve up palatable immigrant narratives designed to prove worthiness or inspire pity. The punchy reporting reminds us that loving our neighbors well requires seeing them fully, even when—and especially when—their stories challenge our comfortable narratives about who belongs in this brutiful American experiment.
The Fire This Time: A New Generation Speaks About Race, edited by Jesmyn Ward
Ward has assembled a powerful chorus of contemporary Black voices responding to James Baldwin's prophetic 1963 text, creating what feels like an essential conversation across generations about race in America. The collection examines how Baldwin's warnings remain devastatingly relevant today through essays and poems from writers like Claudia Rankine, Kiese Laymon, and Isabel Wilkerson. These writers confront everything from the weight of Confederate monuments to the intimate grief of mothers fearing for their children's safety, creating a mosaic of lived experience that refuses simplistic narratives about progress. What makes this anthology so compelling is its balance of a hard look at systemic injustice alongside moments of profound beauty, celebration, and hope for transformation. This isn't just required reading; it's required reckoning.
That’s my list of the most impactful Memoirs & Autobiographies. Thanks for joining for this special mini-series. See you in June for my favorites On Being A Person In The World (e.g., faith, embodiment, and more)!
Cheers from my shelves to yours,
RSM