I’m a novelist so I read plenty of fiction, but some years
ago I read a thrilling story by Jon Krakauer titled, “Into Thin Air,” about a
journalist’s journey to the top of the world and it changed everything for me. The book
was an exhilarating first-hand account of an expedition which attempted to
scale Mount Everest and the drama that’s
included in achieving something so demanding.
Twelve people lost their lives on this particular expedition and
Krakauer’s storytelling is what brings
this tragedy to life. Without his incredible
writing skills no one outside of the mountaineering community would even know
about this disaster.
A storm is brewing while Krakauer looks down at the world
from the top of Everest and miscalculations cause lives to be lost. Krakauer works through some very guilt-ridden
descriptions of mistakes he’d made and it gives the book a personal touch, as
if he was using the forum as a form of catharsis.
I bring this up because it was the first nonfiction book I’d
read for pleasure in a long while and it made me realize what good writing can
do to a true story. I’m sure this style
of historical fiction was employed much earlier, however, this was the first
book which captured my imagination so vividly.
Not long after reading “Into Thin Air,” I read Sebastian
Junger’s “The Perfect Storm.” Once again
I was transported into this amalgamation of three storm systems all merging in
the North Atlantic to terrorize the six member crew of the swordfish boat, the
Andrea Gail. The crew was eminently
qualified and by all accounts did everything humanly possible to escape their
plight. Junger does a stellar job of
recreating the meteorological events that caused this perfect storm, even
describing a Coast Guard rescue helicopter trying to save a civilian boat in
the same system while navigating hundred foot waves. This was a masterful job of storytelling and
in less competent hands could’ve turned out to be a weather report. But Junger draws you into the personal lives
of the crew and their family and makes you feel the agony that goes along with
the hazardous lifestyle of a deep sea fishing crew. 
The final book in this trio of books that broke the
boundaries for me was Laura Hillenbrand’s “Seabiscuit.” Once again I was back in the 1930’s where
horse racing and boxing were the two most popular sports. Before telephones or television were
household items, never mind handheld devices.
What Hillenbrand does so well is document the times and remind people
what life was like all those years ago.
Can you imagine ten thousand people showing up at a train stop in New
Mexico just to watch a horse lumber down a ramp and go to the bathroom? It’s an amazing account of a lifestyle that
is gone, and pending an apocalyptic event, will never return.
Now as a fiction writer, it’s my job to imagine that
apocalyptic event and show you what that might look like. But until then, these books allow you to see,
smell and hear what history looked like, and when you’re finished you’ll think
to yourself—wow, that really happened.
What were your boundary books?
