Notes: (1) Most of these receive quite a few stars. The reason is if I don’t like a book, I won’t keep reading. It won’t appear on this list. Thus, I consider these to mostly be winners. (2) I consumed many of these as audio books. I commute to campus by bicycle 20 miles each day, and thus have many hours at my disposal for audio listening. And I’ll often enjoy having a book read to me more than actually reading it if the narration is well done.

  On Writing Well by William Zinsser, 2006: My literary journalism professor assigned this text as a handbook for this semester. I enjoyed Zinsser’s approach to good writing so much that I read it through in about a week, though the required pacing doesn’t entail our class finishing it until closer to December. Regardless, he addresses just about every aspect of strong nonfiction writing, pitfalls to avoid (cliches being the biggest) and general tips for getting the most out of research and interviewing. Its purpose in class is to guide us along our own long-form narrative writing assignments, two of which I’m posting here soon with another to follow toward semester’s end. Not often are you required to buy a book for a course in college—undergraduate or otherwise—that you immediately decide to hold on to after the course has ended. This will be one of those. (5 of 5 stars)

 Bossypants by Tina Fey, 2011: I’ve always loved Tina Fey for her time on SNL, especially after reading James Miller and Tom Shales’ oral history on SNL this summer. While I’m not quite as big a fan of “30 Rock” as, say, her “Weekend Update” and Sarah Palin SNL skits, I do hope she continues to write, act and produce great comedy for years. I consumed this one via audio book, and I kept laughing aloud during certain parts. I’m sure it would have been the same had I read it in print, but her narration took it to another level. (5 of 5 stars)

 Scorecasting by Tobias Moskowitz and L. Jon Wertheim , 2011: I was one of the first in my circle of friends to read Moneyball back in 2003 during my freshman year of high school, and, like many these days, have since enjoyed reading about statistical methods being applied to sports. While I’m a somewhat abysmal performer in the statistical realm myself, having skated through a freshman undergraduate course with a C, I enjoyed Moskowitz and Wertheim’s application of their sports and mathematical expertise to many aspects of sports data that most fans take for granted. (3 of 5 stars)

 Firestarter by Stephen King, 1980: At some point in my life, much like my pursuit of all things David Halberstam and John Feinstein, I plan to read all of Stephen King’s works. Of course, if he keeps cranking out 1,100-page poorly edited tomes (before I’m criticized for rushing to judgment, I fully intend to purchase and read that linked work when it comes out) every other year, I might revise this goal. Still, this is one of his earlier horror tales that I tracked down and gave a listen. It’s clearly a work from the Cold War era, with shadowy men in suits chasing suspected government experiments gone wrong around the country.  (3 of 5 stars)

 The Wire: Urban Decay and American Television by Tiffany Potter & C.W. Marshall, 2009: If I was cut out for academia in the long-run and wasn’t just pursuing a master’s with the intention of going back into the industry, I would definitely look toward David Simon’s fictitious Baltimorean universe found in “The Wire” for a thesis topic. In a brief conversation with one of my professors, he suggested I might try to examine it from the angle of a journalist’s “constructed reality,” which is most certainly what Simon accomplished in the six-year series. Unfortunately, I’m not sure I’d have enough content there to pursue an adequate study of it, and was even less sure of that being the case after reading this collection of essays. I still enjoyed it for the perspectives that many of the academics within brought to their own studies of Simon’s work.  (4 of 5 stars)

 Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand, 2010: Seeing this book near the top of every nonfiction bestseller list for the past two years cemented me reading it at some point. But in looking at the third literary journalism reading assignment for this semester—”any one book or lengthy article by a contemporary literary journalist (not one of the usual suspects like Wolfe, Talese, Thompson or Didion)”—I realized I had my excuse to pursue it right away. Hillenbrand is a fascinating author study in that she suffers from chronic fatigue but is able to put such vigor into her writing. Anyone who read or watched “Seabiscuit” saw how she could bring long-forgotten characters to life. She did it again here with her reconstruction of the life of Louis Zamperini, and I’m eager to present my findings on her style in class during the coming weeks.  (5 of 5 stars)

 What Good is Journalism? by George Kennedy & Daryl Moen, 2007: When I picked Florida for grad school early this spring, I immediately went about finding as many texts from the college’s background reading list (journalism section, mainly) as I could. Even though I figured I had a handle on the study of journalism broadly, I followed the prefatory advice that UF posted: “The list below should be considered, not as required reading but rather as a chance to get a leg up on studies here.” This was just about the last of those texts that I decided to pursue, having found it a month earlier through Mercyhurst’s Hammermill Library e-book system. While it was totally a product of the Mizzou journalism school and slightly outdated (2007), certain parts were applicable to my current studies. And it definitely answered the question found in the title. In short, journalism is good for everything it always has been—delivering news that matters to local and national communities, even in these times of shortened attention spans and declining readership. (4 of 5 stars)

 Somebody Told Me by Rick Bragg, 2000: Yet another recommendation garnered in literary journalism class. I’d unfortunately never heard of the name Rick Bragg before this course, and thus decided to check it out from the Alachua Library as soon as I could, exploring some of the former St. Pete and New York Times scribe’s best work from the 1990s. His approach to topics and then interview subjects is one that has been refined to an art over the years, but it’s one which I am now enjoying myself as I try to piece together a few literary journalism pieces. Bragg’s ability to bring his readers from all over the country into close contact with far-flung subjects all over the south was amazing. He’s now teaching at the University of Alabama, and I would imagine his classes there are nothing short of mesmerizing.  (4 of 5 stars)

 The Bag Guys Won by Jeff Pearlman, 2004: I read Pearlman’s account of the 1990s Dallas Cowboys exploits last Christmas and, not being previously familiar with his work other than the SI John Rocker piece a decade ago, I was immediately struck by his ability to get inside a story through dogged interviewing (generally to the tune of 400-plus interviews). A few weeks into my Sports Media & Society course at UF, professor Ted Spiker surprised the class by bringing Pearlman to our lecture hall via Skype. I was enthralled with everything he had to say and zoomed to the library on my bike ride home to check out all his books. This was his first, and his book-length talents were on display from the beginning. If you’re a Mets or even a huge baseball fan, this one is worth a read. As a big ’97 Pittsburgh Pirates devotee (sad, I know), I loved the stories about a young Kevin Elster who came into the big leagues with that ’86 Mets team. (5 of 5 stars)

 The Water is Wide by Pat Conroy, 1972: I’ve read just about all of Conroy’s other works, save his most recent (ironic, I know, given its title). And this one, his second book, hinted at his success to come. His mostly autobiographical style is present throughout the novel, as he captures the year-plus experience he gained while teaching on “Yamacraw Island,” known as Daufuskie Island in real life. It’s an overall heartwarming tale that shows how it was and remains possible for educators to connect with illiterate students in the poorest rural areas around the country. I particularly liked the parts toward the end when he was jerked around by a misguided principal and school board who thought he was guilty of insubordination. Rather, he saw actual value in the students he taught, whereas the local administrators were ready to cast them aside as ignorant poor people who would never accomplish much. Much of Conroy’s haranguing of these foolish authority figures still rings true today, as early education in poor districts remains desperately underfunded. (4 of 5 stars)

 The Corner by David Simon, 1997: Like “Unbroken” above, this was a book I chose to read and present on for literary journalism class. I read “Homicide” last year and only recently heard that Simon had written another “year-in-the-life” type book about Baltimore in the 1990s. Putting it on my read-in-the-distant-future list, I quickly pulled it off the shelf when I saw the description of this assignment (much like the one above except this one had to be a study of a well-known journalist; Simon definitely qualified). I read it quickly, covering at least 30 pages a day over the course of a few weeks, pulling out the major threads for an in-class presentation (right-click, “Save target as” if you want to see it). (5 of 5 stars)

 The One Percent Doctrine by Ron Suskind, 2006: Ron Suskind has been back in the news during the past month for “The Confidence Men” about the Obama administration (as it happens, I’m reading this in October), but I wanted to trek back and go through this one about the War on Terror as well. Plus, I had seen it referenced in more than one of the books I tore through this summer. Dick Cheney’s extreme overreaching doctrine, for which the book is named, strikes the reader again and again as utter hubris. It was evident, even in 2006 when the book was published, that the doctrine just wasn’t going to reach the endgame the U.S. wants. Listening to the constant continued in-fighting that went on among Bush, Cheyney, Rumsfeld and all the players from the FBI and CIA during those years was just astounding. (5 of 5 stars)

 Best American Sports Writing of the Century, 1999: With a David Halberstam introduction to this epic collection of great writing, how could you go wrong? I have read many of this series’ annual collections of the past 10 years and always enjoy discovering or getting reacquainted with great writers. Being a Pirates fan, I particularly enjoyed Roger Angell’s 1975 New Yorker piece on Steve Blass, even if I’m not real fond of Blass as a broadcaster these days. Too goofy. Anyway, the major drawback to this collection and to sportswriting as a profession during the 20th century was its near-total shuttering of women–from coverage and from the press box. Almost completely a boys club, and this collection lacked entirely any gender diversity. I don’t necessarily blame this on Halberstam or series editor Glenn Stout, but it definitely stands out when you read down the list of scribes. (5 of 5 stars)

 The Taliban Shuffle by Kimberly Barker, 2011: Another War in Afghanistan/War on Terror book, though this one focused more on what it was like for the media (specifically, a woman) to cover it during the past 10 years. Her stories of whacky tribal members in Pakistan and eastern Afghanistan should tell the U.S. all it needs to know about ever “winning” this war. Also of note was her discussion toward the end on newspaper downsizing, especially her diatribes toward the corporate management of the Chicago Tribune. You can tell there were quite a few occasions for foreign correspondents and the budget slashers back home to butt heads. It’s good to see Barker has now landed with ProPublica. (4 of 5 stars)

 New York: A Serendipiter’s Journey by Gay Talese, 1961: In exploring books and authors, I really enjoy going back and looking at the first work of a writer who turned out to later become a big success, especially if his or her first book didn’t attract many readers in its day. This is one such book, which now appears to be largely out of print but that UF’s library had an original copy of, where I could explore Talese’s early style. His “man on the street” style fits this subject matter perfectly, as he was able to capture a wide variety of characters in New York City during the early 1960s. You could tell he had a great feeling for the pulse of the city, and probably still does to some extent. I hope to someday read his later works like “Unto the Sons,” “Thy Neighbor’s Wife” or “The Kingdom and the Power,” but for now this, coupled with reading his articles on Joe DiMaggio and Frank Sinatra, was a nice first sojourn. (5 of 5 stars)

 The Big Burn by Timothy Egan, 2009: Ever since I heard that Teddy Roosevelt was capable of reading three to four pages of a book a minute, I’ve been drawn to the sheer power of his intellect and personality. Each of those traits, along with his love for physical activity and the outdoors, were on display in this book. Egan skillfully treks back in time through primary documents and oral histories to examine the Great Fire of 1910, which burned millions of acres of forest in the American West and later helped bring about the U.S. Forest Service, despite widespread opposition. It’s odd to think that park rangers were ever a hated group, and Egan explains all sides accurately and through a colorful historical narrative. (4 of 5 stars)

 Love Me, Hate Me by Jeff Pearlman, 2006: More Pearlman. Like I said, I’m trying to get through all his books now, especially as he keeps them coming. His book on Roger Clemens is next, followed by the needlessly-controversial one just released about Walter Payton, though I could otherwise care less about Payton as a sports figure. The same cannot be said of Barry Bonds, whose career rose just as my own interest in the game of baseball was peaking, and this book detailed much of the darker side of his personality which I had always suspected but never read about concretely. Bonds, of course, would likely call just about all of Pearlman’s book a lie, but it’s tough to argue when he tried his best to fairly portray him and gain a complete picture of his life. There’s really no getting around the fact he spoke with 500 different people who knew or were very close to Bonds. The only one missing was Bonds himself, who laughed when Pearlman approached him one last time for an interview shortly before publication. (5 of 5 stars)

More from this ongoing reading log can be found here.