My 2023 Reads

And a couple of Steel City poems...

Just kidding…DO read as much as possible. The writer Rita Mae Brown once said, “When I got my library card, that was when my life began.” Reading broadens our perspectives and enriches our lives. Please keep reading, dear friends. And with that not-so-gentle prodding, these are the books I read this year:

Books about Trails, Nature, and Place:

Diary of a Young Naturalist, by Dara McAnulty

This was an enjoyable read. McAnulty is a young climate activist, naturalist, and writer from Northern Ireland. The book follows a year of his life as a teen. He navigates autism, depression, a move to a new community, and invitations to speak at events focused on climate change and biodiversity. From the publisher’s description: “these diary entries about his connection to wildlife and the way he sees the world are vivid, evocative, and moving.” McAnulty’s attention to the world around him caused me to pay better attention as well. A favorite line from the book (about a moment he experienced in nature): “I want this to be etched in me forever.” I know the feeling, Dara.

Our National Forests: Stories from America’s Most Important Public Lands, by Greg Peters

My longest running project my entire 10 years in business thus far was with the Forest Service. I encountered this book near the tail-end of my project and wish I’d found it sooner. Written for a general audience, it provides a very readable overview of the Forest Service and the National Forest System. I found most chapters really quite interesting. Some topics I noted upon finishing the book included sections on reforestation efforts (American Chestnut), wilderness areas, citizen science, and wildfire management. My takeaway on the creation of the Forest Service is that it had less to do with protecting forests than it did with maintaining commerce. Essentially, clearcutting caused massive floods, which made rivers less navigable, which interfered with commerce along the waterways. It was a case of conservation to protect capitalism, not conservation for its own sake (although a lot of land was ultimately conserved).

Through the Groves, by Anne Hull

This memoir set in a pre-Disney Central Florida is so beautifully written. It read like a novel to me and is one of my top recommendations from my year of reading. From a professional standpoint, I was interested in learning about the place before it was so drastically altered. I got a sense for that as well as the early days of tourism. But I got so much more out of the book; I became invested in Anne and her story. I’ve had the chance to recommend this to a few Floridians and do hope they’ll let me know what they think of it.

Braiding Sweetgrass, by Robin Wall Kimmerer

This is another of my top recommendations from my year in reading. Although, truth be told, I savored this book over a two-year period, picking it up every once in a while, taking in a chapter at a time. Wall Kimmerer is a botanist and a member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation. She approaches the natural world differently from most scientists, writing about reciprocity, relationship, and responsibility to the land. I mark up my books, and this one has A LOT of mark up. One section I want to call out is about a Superfund site in New York. She writes about it and other “wounded” places, noting that we can take the path of fear and despair in response to the harm that’s being done. But “Even a wounded world is feeding us. Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the earth gives me daily and I must return the gift.”

She goes on to assert, “Despair is paralysis. It robs us of agency…how can we submit to despair while the land is saying ‘Help’? Restoration is a powerful antidote to despair.” We have so much to learn from Robin Wall Kimmerer and this book. I hope you will read this beautiful, informative book and take heed to its call to action.

Uneven Ground, by Ronald D. Eller

This was my first reading assignment for the Appalachian Leadership Institute (ALI). (Here’s more about that program here.) The most common sentiments shared among members of my cohort was that it’s a dry read. I share in that assessment, but it was a good overview of the history of the region and the Appalachian Regional Commission. I’m also quite intrigued by the title in relation to another book I’ve read, Pema Chödrön’s Living Beautifully in Uncertain Times. Chödrön writes about the “groundlessness” of being human. Eller writes about Appalachia being on uneven ground in comparison to the rest of the U.S. And in December, our ALI training focused on finding “common ground” with people who are different from us. To be “grounded,” experience groundlessness, or seek common ground…I’m sensing a powerful metaphor and a future blog post on the topic.

Steelworker’s Family (chapbook), by Georgeann Eskievich Rettberg

I came upon this 1989 poetry collection in a library book sale a few months ago. First, I was surprised by the first two poems, set in the “old country.” They weren’t what I was expecting, but wow! As for the rest…this collection is so rich and evocative of the Pittsburgh I never quite knew but feel in my soul, my body, my heritage. If you understand Pittsburgh, I’d say you’d appreciate this collection. Lines like, “Paczki doughnuts perfume the kitchen,” “My father lifts his Millers and coughs out the steel mill,” and “Willing seeds to grow he raises tomatoes in a patch of backyard dust” are sprinkled throughout reminding us of the Pittsburgh of yesteryear. One poem, pictured below, certainly could have been written about my great grandmother. Another (also below) gave me a good laugh. I hope you can find and enjoy this collection.

Two Sides, Three Rivers, by Sharon Dilworth

I read this short story collection early in the year and don’t remember a ton about it, but I thought the story about Greenfield (my former neighborhood) was really cleverly written. I also enjoyed “The Accordions of the Mon Valley” story and think about it from time to time. I love it when I think about a book, story, or character long after we were first acquainted.

Everything Else:

The Mighty Fitz: The Sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald, by Michael Schumacher

This book about the 1975 sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald was my first one out of the gate in 2023. I definitely recommend it if you're into the Great Lakes and the story of the Edmund Fitzgerald. I enjoyed the multi-faceted storytelling that extended far beyond the wreck itself.

Magic Lessons, by Alice Hoffman

Mailed to me by a friend, this novel is one I wouldn’t have selected on my own, but it kept my interest. Set in 17th century rural England  – and then Curaçao, Salem, and New York City  – it seemed well-researched and took me to four different parts of the world. A line that I think would make for a great tattoo (if you’re taking body art tips from me): “Never watch another woman burn.”

The True Story of Hansel and Gretel: A Novel of War and Survival, by Louise Murphy

My aunt had been urging me to read this for quite a while and 2023 was the year that I finally did. This retelling of the Hansel and Gretel fairytale set in WWII Poland was quite interesting, though terribly sad. Some of the scenes were horrifying.

Building the Barricade, by Anna Świrszczyńska (a.k.a., Anna Swir) (translated from Polish by Piotr Florczyk)

I got this wartime poetry collection for Christmas 2021 by request. I started reading it early in 2022, but I couldn’t bring myself to read it after Russia invaded Ukraine. I picked it up again earlier this year. My two-word review in my book notes: “Terribly sad.” That said, it’s a beautiful collection focused on Świrszczyńska‘s involvement in the Warsaw Uprising, and I do recommend it. It speaks to the human condition in the most trying times, and l love the simplicity of her writing. Each poem is presented first in Polish, and then in English.

GRIT: The Power of Passion and Perseverance, Angela Duckworth

I’m not a fast reader. Nevertheless, I plowed through a good chunk of this book on a plane because I was enjoying it so much. (I. Am. A. Nerd.). Duckworth defines grit as the combination of passion and perseverance sustained over the long term. Understanding the characteristic of grit helped me to recognize that I do, in fact, have it. I was also able to better articulate my top level personal and professional goal (sort of my guiding compass) after reading the book. Also of interest: she wrote about a “Hard Things Rule” in her family, which is being committed to something that requires deliberate daily practice. Perhaps something to aspire to in 2024?

The Old Man and the Sea, by Earnest Hemingway

My only note upon finishing The Old Man and the Sea was, “Why did I finish this book?” I think the only answer, really, is that it wasn’t very long. What are your thoughts on this Hemmingway classic?

The Book of Negroes, by Lawrence Hill (published under the title Someone Knows My Name in the U.S.)

The “Book of Negroes” is an actual historical document. The Nova Scotia Archives say that it’s the single most important document that recorded the immigration of 3,000 Black refugees to Nova Scotia following the War of Independence. The document is a record of those who boarded ships to Canada, both the Black Loyalists who pledged loyalty to Great Britain and those who traveled while still enslaved. Learn more about the Black Loyalists here (or better yet, visit the Black Loyalist Heritage Centre in Shelburne, NS if you are able). As for the book, it is a meticulously researched historical novel spanning two continents. I learned a lot by reading it. The book addressed the cruelty of slavery and the slave trade, familial and cultural losses, and the will to survive. There are only so many character names that stick with me long after reading a book. Aminata Diallo makes the list. She’s the strong and clever protagonist who is the beating heart of the story. If you go on to read this one, please let me know what you think.

The Revenant, by Michael Punke

I saw the movie years ago and all I could remember was the bear attack. When I came across the novel recently, the cover looked compelling enough to give it a go. The book held my interest, for the most part. The bear attack scene was less gruesome. I learned about the fur trade and survival under harsh conditions. I mean, the grit required to survive out in the elements with limited resources is an entirely different thing than the grit I wrote about above. Honestly, though, it felt weird to read this book. I was reading Braiding Sweetgrass at the same time, and have been trying to deepen my understanding of indigenous cultures and the legacy of injustices against them. To read a novel in which certain tribes were the enemy just felt a little strange. I’d wondered whether the same novel would be published in 2023.

Ivan Hicks: Fifty Years of Fabulous Fiddle Music, by Allison Mitcham

I picked this up in Nova Scotia last summer. Honestly, it was Mitcham’s husband’s illustrations that drew me to the book. Peter Mitcham illustrated this and two others that I found while there. I couldn’t get enough of his work. As for the book, it was neat to read about Ivan Hicks and fiddling in New Brunswick. I have friends in Riverview, NB, (Hicks’s hometown). One of them feels culturally connected to Appalachia, which he says feels a lot like home. I wonder if fiddling is one of the reasons.

Our Kids: the American Dream in Crisis, by Robert D. Putnam

This was the second ALI assigned reading. Putnam is better knowing for his book, Bowling Alone: the Collapse and Revival of American Community, which has been on my to-read list for a while now. Our Kids focuses on the opportunity gap that has widened from the 1950s to the 2010s. The differences in life chances based on life circumstances experienced by kids today are staggering. I’m not sure that I would recommend the book, partly because so much has occurred since it was published, but it’s an important topic.

Run Towards the Danger: Confrontations with a Body of Memory, by Sarah Polley

This book of six essays centers on a theme of exploring “a body of memory.” She recounts stories from her childhood as a child actor as well as some from her adult life, calling them “the most dangerous stories of my life.” It was a pretty good read that had me reflecting on all that we carry in our bodies. Side note: Check out S.G. Goodman’s “The Keeper of the Time” if you want to explore that topic musically.

Fear: A Cultural History, by Joanna Bourke

I wanted to like this one more than I did. Some of the topics were quite fascinating as the book explored how fears shifted over time based on world events. There was a lot of interesting content, but the writing seemed overly academic.

The Sum of Us, by Heather McGhee

I didn’t finish this book and may not just due to having SO MANY other books to get to. But I want to put it out there as an important book and one that I would be happy to pass along. The subtitle is “What racism costs everyone and how we can prosper together.” One example that has stuck with me is that of communities choosing to close their swimming pools rather than to integrate them. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around backfilling a public pool rather than opening it to the entire community. Other topics included housing, education, and healthcare. If you’re local to Pittsburgh and would like to be the next reader of The Sum of Us, let me know and we’ll make plans.

Reading Now:

• Appalachian North, by Matthew Ferrence

• The Reading List, by Sara Nisha Adams

• We Were Once a Family, by Roxanna Asgarian (audio)

From Steelworker’s Family:

In Gratitude

Quite simply: I’m grateful for books, bookstores, libraries and that I have the time and inclination to read. I’m also grateful to be part of a community of readers who share and look for recommendations. Thanks to YOU for taking the time to read this post. If you’re looking for even more on books I’ve read, here’s my 2021 reading list. Somehow I skipped over 2022. Wishing you lots of wonder-filled and eye-opening reading in the New Year, my friends!