The most recommended cancer books

Sometimes when faced with impossible choices, the answer is to double down and keep going – even in the face of an existential threat.

As a visual humorist (I deliver my jokes on paper), I shared an immediate rapport with standup comedian Steve Mazan, who was pitching his book at an IdeaFestival, while still dealing with the lingering consequences of liver cancer. Steve’s answer was to say, “I’ve been dying to appear on David Letterman. Now I’m literally dying to do it!”

There’s something to be said of checking off the important boxes on your bucket list. Steve Mazan turned his list into a book, one that delivers a powerful punch line.

Lois Roelofs' bold account of her husband's terminal illness and his treatment decisions provides the reader with a compelling story about life-affirming choices despite painful truths about morbidity.

Roelofs chronicles her husband's final months exquisitely and honestly, with humanity and respect for her husband, Marv's decisions about the quality of life and treatment, despite his dire diagnosis.

Reading Roelof's book renewed my admiration for healthcare heroes and family members who become caregivers. A compelling read that is both realistic and celebratory, honoring her dear husband, Marv.

I found The Undying Project beautiful and bracing. Like me, the author of this book had breast cancer. Unlike me, she had an aggressive cancer that is difficult to treat and often deadly. Her fear and struggle get transformed into blocks of prose that loosely tell the story of her treatment, but also discuss more philosophical writing on suffering and its meanings. At times I found the book hard to take, but I am so glad I read it because it gave cancer a personal and intellectual context; I hadn’t realized I needed that. The Undying won the Pulitzer Prize in 2020. 

A wonderful saga of a cutting-edge research team’s quest to understand and even cure cancer, told with drama, wit and a poetic style.

This was one of the pioneering books that turned science writing into a truly literary pursuit, and the act of reading them into a pleasure like reading a novel.

I would highly recommend this book to anyone who has suffered multiple losses of loved ones, whether it be a spouse, family member, or friend. Nancy Saltzman's story will enter into your soul and give you the strength of a woman who lost her husband and two children in a plane crash. She shares her story of love, loss, and rebuilding of a future as a radical survivor of cancer and loss of her family. Her spirit and desire to live life to the fullest are prominent in her story.

Dave Egger’s memoir is about his early years as the adult caretaker of his younger brother after the death of both their parents. This is an energetic and writerly work.

His writing screams “Look at me” with its sharp and distinctive style. He writes that he wants to be heard, that he wants to be understood, and his writing demands this of you. 

There are stories of him starting a magazine and him trying to get into MTV’s The Real World. My memory of the book is a scene of him and his brother playing frisbee. It is told in a dramatic and elevated manner, their throws monumentally heroic, the disc cutting the air between them, their catches amazingly acrobatic.

You sense this is how a young hero should see himself in his own story. Surely this is worth seeing, he asks, and I thought: absolutely!

Okay, two books--but they’re really one. The Southpaw is about Henry Wiggen the baseball player finding his way in the major leagues.  A sports book by and large.  And then the fastball to the heart--Bang the Drum Slowly. The vagaries and tragedies of life intrude on the pristine baseball field, and Wiggen and the rest have to deal with reality:  boys grow into men; men sicken, men die. These books inspired me when I decided to become a writer of sports novels. They showed me that not only could I write a sports book about more than sports, but also that I needed to write a sports book about more than sports. Why bother otherwise? 

Rogers has an unexpected message to share. It’s possible to be grateful amidst a loved one’s death. In her case, it was the loss of her husband, and the story is told through blog posts he composed during his final year of life along with her own journal entries. By seeing her way through her own depths of grief, Rogers points the way for readers to seek and find their own gifts embedded in the grief of loss.

Having recently lost his wife to cancer, Chris Lowndes purchases a county home in the picturesque Yorkshire Dales and returns to his native England. Although the home is charming, it comes with a disturbing history. The previous owner died in the home during a winter blizzard more than fifty years earlier, and his beautiful and much younger wife was hanged after being found guilty of poisoning her husband.

Lowndes becomes obsessed with their story and his determination to uncover the truth–Was the poisoning accidental or done on purpose?–kept me wondering why he felt such a strong connection with this condemned woman.

This story is a beautifully told, enthralling page-turner. Be prepared for a revelation that will bring tears to your eyes.

McGahern, an Irish writer, arguably should have won the Nobel prize for his body of work (I’ve read everything I could get my hands on). He died in 2006 of cancer. This was published posthumously in 2007, the year I first read it... Have read it 3 times since. McGahern opens up and lets us in, with beautiful prose. Hypnotic, haunting, wise, and honest.