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Sarah M. Broom won the 2019 National Book Award for Nonfiction for her touching memoir, “The Yellow House,” which chronicles how her family rode out Hurricane Katrina and generations of social injustices. Judges praise how Broom “uses reportage, oral history, and astute political analysis to seep into the generational crevices, while reveling and revealing the choppy inheritances rooted in one family in the neighborhood of New Orleans East.”
Hallie Rubenhold won the 2019 Baillie Gifford Prize — the prestigious British award for the best nonfiction writing in English — for “The Five: The Untold Lives of Women Killed by Jack the Ripper.” Judges describe her book as “brilliantly written and brilliantly researched … And it is so relevant now in terms of how crimes, particularly sex crimes and crimes against women, can be reported and considered and talked about.”
While your uncle is getting on your nerves at Thanksgiving dinner, just think, there’s no way your family has even half the dysfunction of Augusten Burrough’s. Seriously, there’s a pedophile who lives in the shed behind his house. Defines “insanely funny.” (If your family is half as dysfunctional, you should start writing a book about it over the long holiday weekend.)
So what does moving to impeach President Trump actually entail, and what’s the potential fallout? Find out what all this could mean for us today by learning what happened the three times impeachment was invoked in the past.
Demi Moore, at the height of her career, seemed to be on top the whole world: She was the highest-paid actress of all-time in the ’90s. But behind all the glitz and the glamour, of course, there was a personal struggle against a dark past and drug abuse. Moore chronicles how she overcame these challenges in this candid memoir.
“Year of the Monkey” is a slim and mystical memoir of just one year in Smith’s life, but it’s also a philosophical and poetic examination of time, memory, age, and art. Though there’s plenty of biographical detail to contend with here, the book has more in common with the quiet musings of “M Train” than the more truly biographical nostalgia of “Just Kids.”
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