We Were Eight Years in Power, by Ta-Nehisi Coates
I thought I was too raw after November 8th to read this one. I was a fool. Healing and informative. They’ve been teaching the Civil War all wrong. Thank you, Ta-Nehisi Coates.
True and False, by David Mamet
An iconoclastic little book about acting. David Mamet helped me understand what my responsibility was, to the author and to our audiences, when Lin-Manuel offered me the role of a lifetime.
The Autobiography of Malcolm X, by Malcolm X and Alex Haley
Found my Dad’s old copy in the basement when I was in seventh grade. I’ve read it many times since. It’s always a pleasure spending a few days learning from brother Malcolm. You can feel the depth of his care and his sincere hope for your survival in every page. If he wasn’t a friend and a hero before you started reading, you’ll have to make some room for him.
In My Father’s House: Poems, by John Hodgen
My favorite book of poetry. Hodgen makes the ordinary and the plain profound again and again. We all struggle to come up with the words to attach to our grief, our confusion, our losses. Hodgen is not immune to the plight. You can feel and appreciate the effort. He wrestles each of the ingenious little masterpieces from the struggle and the search.
Letters to a Young Artist, by Anna Deavere Smith
I watch everything she does. I read everything she writes. My favorite artist walking the planet. Watch her Notes From the Field on HBO. Pick up her inspiring letters to a young artist immediately afterward. She never disappoints.
I Knew You’d Be Lovely, by Alethea Black
I heard a smart person say once that short stories were the ideal form to receive and integrate information. Whether it’s completely true or not, the idea has stayed with me, and if you were trying to argue the point, I Knew You’d Be Lovely, could be held up as exhibit A. Emotionally, no work(s) of fiction ever moved me more thoroughly.