10 books to get you fired up

1. Fox and I: An Uncommon Friendship by Catherine Raven

Raven’s memoir of her unexpected relationship with a wild fox is completely absorbing. No spoiler alerts here—if you were deeply moved by the film My Octopus Teacher, the South African kelp forest and octopus are replaced with the unforgiving expanse of remote Montana and one runtish, curious fox. Both author and sly fox revel in solitude until their paths cross and become forever linked. You’ll see. It’s deeply visceral and heartrending from the get go. Kwah. When you learn what this reference means, you’ll be wiping the tears from your cheeks.

With a PhD in biology, degrees in zoology and botany, the former national park ranger’s all-encompassing observations speak of her enormous knowledge of the natural world. Raven is also a member of American Mensa and Sigma Xi and it shows in every perfect paragraph.

2. If I Knew Then: Finding Wisdom in Failure and Power in Aging by Jann Arden

We all knew this nugget was going to be solid gold and quintessential Jann. She has admittedly made a living out of being herself. She has also made a career out of messing around inside our amygdala (*the hard drive in the human brain where emotions linked to memories are stored). Jann knows how to swirl our insides like a Ninja blender on HIGH. She pulls the Band-Aid off being human without deleting the tears and snot that accompany it. If I Knew Then isn’t “preachy preacherson”—it’s a never-too-late push towards rewiring your life by making “good use of those troubled times.” There are home perms, wigs on fire, dill pickles on a stick, rejection letters and reflections on how a basement record player was self-preservation in disguise. God, guilt, aging parents and conflicted love percolate throughout.

Jann’s still coming of age in the most beautiful way, skipping the self-annihilation and dated concept of expiry dates for successful women.

3. The Hungry Ocean: A Swordboat Captain’s Journey by Linda Greenlaw

Greenlaw’s no-guff account of a month-long swordfishing trip from the coast of Maine to the tempestuous Grand Banks (southeast of Newfoundland and Labrador) is harrowing, isolating, fraught with danger and very tight quarters. Her boat, the Hannah Boden, was the sister ship to the Andrea Gail, which hauntingly disappeared in the mother of all storms in 1991 (Sebastian Junger’s The Perfect Storm recounted this tragedy). The Hungry Ocean is guaranteed to eat away at your jangled nerves as the swordboat captain shares her fathoms-deep fearlessness that’s anchored deep in the rolling Atlantic.

As Greenlaw famously said, “I am a woman. I am a fisherman. . . I am not a fisherwoman, fisherlady, or fishergirl. If anything else, I am a thirty-seven-year-old tomboy. It’s a word I have never outgrown.”

4. Restaurant Kid: A Memoir of Family and Belonging by Rachel Phan

Stigma, veiled racism, third culture and generational displacement collide in Rachel Phan’s impactful narrative. Her parents knew sacrifice well and expected the same from Phan and her siblings when they opened their Chinese restaurant, May May Inn, in Kingsville, Ontario. The expectations and obligations of their collective stolen childhoods are revealed in a slow dissection of pain points that begin with her parents’ journey to Canada after escaping from China to Japan and then Vietnam (until Chinese residents were presumed to be spies after the Sino-Vietnamese War).

The lengths, strengths and sacrifice of the Phan family knows no boundaries. Her parents picked dew worms and mushrooms for extra income before dedicating their lives to what they intended to be a family legacy. Three decades later, as Phan’s parents speak of retiring, an understanding and compassion emerges at a critical time, before the family drifts. We have all frequented a small town Chinese restaurant like the one Phan’s parents owned. Behind every paper menu there’s a dream that’s not always realized. For Phan, as she struggles with the acute awareness of what was lost and found, there’s warming nourishment in the reconnection.

5. The View from Coffin Ridge: A Childhood Exhumed by Gwen Lamont

This memoir stopped me in my tracks. It’s open heart surgery in book form. I can’t believe Lamont survived it all with her humour intact and had the unflinching bravery to share a story that is unbelievably startling and difficult to digest.

Generational DNA is a fascinating thing—I first read about the term in relation to residential school survivors. It’s a vicious cycle, much like the deep-rooted diseases and tent caterpillar infestations that affect trees, crops and grapevines. You could substitute the vulnerability of a plant’s survival, bee colonies, crabapples or ash trees. They are affected by polycystic outbreaks, fungal and bacterial exposure just like the damaging cyclical human conditions of poverty, alcoholism and abuse. Lamont’s childhood is informed by her parents’ trauma but she emerged optimistic and tender to the fact that they tried their best and loved as best as they could but didn’t know how.

Trivia fact: Gwen Lamont is the managing partner of Coffin Ridge Boutique Winery in Annan, Ontario. Wine is definitely a prerequisite for this book!

6. Blaze Island by Catherine Bush

You can actually feel and smell the punk, brine and oceanic crust of Newfoundland and Labrador in Catherine Bush’s nail-biter novel, Blaze Island. Though the isle is fictional, it’s wholly inspired by the partridge berries, roasting eider and rotting kelp of The Rock. Grab a scratchy wool sweater and dunk yourself into the savoury suggestion of bubbling fish broth, salt pork and warm biscuits. This book is a sly 365-page ad campaign for why-you-want-to-visit-Newfoundland-as-soon-as-you-can.

When a jaded and weary climate scientist assumes a new identity and transplants his precocious daughter, Miranda, to Blaze Island, emotions ignite. A category 5 hurricane collides with the island and the aftermath leaves a far-reaching and unexpected path of familial destruction. Miranda’s brooding father, long-obsessed with dying icebergs and solar radiation management, reaches a slow boil. The geopolitical landscape of Blaze Island is volcanic with airline tycoons, carbon pirates, climate change deniers and those conducting underground conceptual experiments in climate engineering. Bush’s characters are vibrantly 3D and come together in a hot mess of passion and conflict. Readers will never look at a cloudy sky the same.

7. Rufous and Calliope by Sara Louise Butler

I’m already designating this novel as the best book I’ll read this year. The wildfire-scarred Kootenays, British Columbia setting (both imagined and real) is immediately immersive. I entered the escape hatch immediately and didn’t look back. I soon found myself thinking about Rufous’s childhood treehouse hideaway and his stubborn search to find it again–even when the book wasn’t in my hands.

The quiet, surreptitious way Butler delicately unfolded so many layers of natural origami with Rufous’s fraying memories of family was both tranquil and terrifying. If you loved The Others or The Sixth Sense there’s a sneaky surprise that will make you want to read the book all over again in search of the subtle hints. It’s one wildly wonderful (and heartrending) walk with a cartographer who has lost his way.

8. The Year of Living Danishly: Uncovering the Secrets of the World’s Happiest Country by Helen Russell

This memoir had a moment for good reason. It was endlessly entertaining (at the expense of the author, an effervescent Brit expat). Her account of decamping to rural Denmark for a year is peppered with pastries and saucy sass. I am now overly confident and ready to  take on the $10,000 Denmark category on Jeopardy! Who knew that Billund, Denmark was the birthplace of Lego?

We all know by now that “hygge” (hoo-guh), is the Danish term for finding solace and tranquility in simple, pleasurable things. It’s the art of physical and mental coziness, encouraged by candlelight, woollen socks, fresh homemade pastries, mulled wine and meaningful conversations by roaring fires with a dog at your feet. It’s this book! Russell’s wit-laced insights, wobbly woes and bewilderment with Danish culture shines buttery light on the secret society of happiness with curiosity and dogged determination.

9. The Harder I Fight the More I Love You by Neko Case

I still can’t name a single Neko Case song (she was part of the 90s indie rock band The New Pornographers before going solo) but I trusted Brenley MacEachern’s truly sound judgement on this one (Brenley is the lead of my favourite disbanded band, Madison Violet). I had Neko mixed up with Holly McNarland in my head, actually. Regardless, this memoir left me wide-eyed and nearly disbelieving. Case scratches her childhood wide open to reveal all the raw guts of neglect and poverty (her family was “as poor as empty acorns). She bided her time by picking fleas off her dogs and eating spoonfuls of flour or uncooked rice.

When her mother “died” and reappeared a year and a half later, everything shakes and settles into one hell of a holy moly reality that makes Case’s writing sharply powerful and un-put-downable. If I were to highlight all the turns of phrase and succinct sentences, I’d have my own version of the Yellow Pages. You can’t un-see her as a kid, not only picking fleas off the dogs, but biting the heads off the fleas before frying them in a space heater.

10. Apron Strings: Navigating Food and Family in France, Italy and China by Jan Wong

Jan Wong goes where no mother has gone before by boldly asking her 22-year-old son, Sam, to tag along with her on an edible journey through France, Italy and China with no strings attached (aside from those pesky apron strings).

From Grenache to Gorgonzola, polenta to cannoli to choux pastry, Wong guides hungry readers through the pantries, paddocks and woks behind iconic dishes like panna cotta and Carbonara. The horns, the spitting oil and the exacting textures of her market crawl descriptions are.instantly transportive. For example: “The chef had sliced the fish crosswise, right through the bones, so each mouthful was like eating a pin cushion.” Her visuals sing out when describing the likes of Xiao long bao (“little basket buns”) that resemble “the onion dome on a Russian orthodox church.” Wong takes readers on a memorable shotgun sensory ride of eating river snails with darning needles and eyebrow-raisers like sweet and sour squirrel fish (I won’t spoil this one!).

Be sure to share what book is on your bedstand, in-flight tray table or library waitlist this month in the comments section below! And hey, why not surprise one of the wonderful women in your life with a book as thanks for being part of your story.