I recently read The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot. The short form review: it's really, really good and it's about race, poverty, ethics, and cancer research. You should probably pick it up. It's easy to find, since it has a bright orange cover with a very jaunty looking lady on it. It was a somewhat unusual read for me, though. Embarrassing but true: I don't read much non-fiction. I'm trying to get over this handicap. Unfortunately, I am the sort of person who has been known to take an inordinately long time to make it through David Sedaris and Sarah Vowell books, which are the training-wheels-on sort of nonfiction reading.
I know some people claim to only read nonfiction. We call these strange individuals "dads". For me, reading nonfiction books is always a struggle. There's something about the occasionally random way real people live their lives that makes it difficult for me to stick with them through it all. The character lists tend to be much longer. You have to remember a lot more details. Also, if you're me, you will have to struggle not to go look everyone up on wikipedia before you finish the book just to see if they're attractive or dead. Not to say that the two are mutually exclusive. I learned who Lewis Powell was from Assassination Vacation. Yes, yes, he conspired to assassinate a president, but just look at that smoldering gaze!
I hate admitting defeat on a book. I maintain that I am still "currently reading" A Confederacy of Dunces, even though I started it during the Bush administration. The secret is, you just have to force yourself to keep picking the book up and reading a few pages. Even if it's only a few pages a night, you'll finish by increments. It's like training for a marathon, except instead of hot runner body, you get hot...reader mind. This is how I eventually finished reading And The Band Played On, which is about the beginning of the AIDS epidemic. In case you are not familiar with it, here is where to read a bit about it on wikipedia. This book is approximately a million pages long. There is a cast of characters that is probably bigger than your Facebook friend list. It took me many small increments to get through it. It's also one of the most heartbreaking, rage-inspiring, wonderful, amazing things I've ever read. Having grown up in the years after we all knew to be terrified of AIDS, it's frustrating and scary to read about those first people who had it and didn't know what it was. If you're interested in gay rights, public health, government conspiracies, courage and cowardice or plain old human nature, you should read this book. Everyone should read this book.
In other words, this is the book that first convinced me that nonfiction can be just as compelling as fiction. I may not quite be up to the point of having a biography of General Patton on my nightstand, but I'm learning which nonfiction books make good parts of a balanced reading diet. If you're trying to start reading more nonfiction, I assure you, if I can do it, you can, too. Later, we can have a fancy discussion at a dinner party about the AIDS crisis and then have a slightly less fancy discussion about The Hunger Games, about which I am also quite knowledgeable. And if you're a nonfiction reader trying to get into fiction, I don't really understand you, but you are welcome at this fictional dinner party as well, and I have quite a few recommendations for you.
