Best biographies and memoirs of July, as chosen by Amazon Editors
The best biographies and memoirs of July are full of fireworks. And, we mean that in the best way. If you’re looking for a salacious read about modeling and the ‘80s, a biography of a frightening serial killer, or a deranged art thief, here are the reads we recommend. There are also quieter pyrotechnics at play as writers wrestle with identity, blindness, and more.
Below are some of our favorites but be sure to check out our full list of the best biographies of the month here.
This juicy book moves a mile a minute—good luck putting it down before you’ve finished every last page. Kate Flannery is a recent college grad who lands what initially seems like a glamorous new job, working to launch the supposedly woman-empowering American Apparel. But her dream (endless parties, traveling around the country spreading the brand’s gospel, risqué photoshoots) soon turns into a nightmare as we meet then-CEO Dov Charney, who manipulates his employees (“Dov girls” and rowdy sycophant stock boys) into what feels like an abusive cult. Flannery struggles as she’s forced to reconcile her reality with her youthful ideals in this coming-of-age memoir, set in gritty-glitzy Los Angeles in the early aughts. Is she having fun as a sexually-liberated “girl boss,” or is she just a young woman being preyed upon by an older man who has been called one of the “craziest CEOs of all time?” You decide. —Lindsay Powers, Amazon Editor
The Art Thief is a blast to read—but also horrifying when you realize what the maniac at the center of the story is up to, and what his mom did to $2 billion worth of art to protect her loser son. Stéphane Breitwieser can’t resist filching priceless pieces from European museums, or, as he calls them “prisons for art.” As Breitwieser’s compulsion grows, readers are left agog wondering how he’ll up the ante, and soon enough: he’s dodging guards to throw an ancient tapestry through a window, hiking through a forest to retrieve it, realizing he doesn't have 100 feet to display it in in his tiny attic apartment, and then stuffing it under his four-poster bed. Gasp! This true crime tale is gateway nonfiction. The narrative, which unfolds over just 221 crisply-written pages, is a romp. The pacing reads like a thriller, with a protagonist who is either brilliant or a total dope—and probably a lot of both. —Lindsay Powers, Amazon Editor
In Behold the Monster, readers will get to do just that: behold Samuel Little, the most prolific serial killer in American history. But this isn’t a linear biography; Lauren artfully structures the book like a documentary, splicing chapters on how she landed on this topic and her growing involvement with Little’s case (she is able to coax confessions out of him that eluded even the Texas Ranger whose job that was) with chapters on Little’s childhood and the forces that shaped him, and his active years as a serial killer. Movingly, she also devotes chapters to a few of Little’s female victims, describing what led to their fateful encounters with him. It’s both enraging and unbearably sad to see how this predator clocked that by targeting women no one—least of all, law enforcement—cared about: prostitutes, mostly women of color, he could kill in almost every state in the union, be hauled into a courtroom at least once, and still get away scot free for four decades. Devastatingly sad and utterly unputdownable. —Vannessa Cronin, Amazon Editor
When Beth Nguyen was eight years old, she fled Saigon at the end of the Vietnam War, with her brother, sister, grandmother, and uncles for the safety and opportunity of America. Curiously absent was her biological mother. Was she left behind? Did she want to stay? In this lyrically probing and delicately told memoir, Beth Nguyen unpacks her immigrant childhood, recounting meeting her mother for the first time more than 10 years after she left her, and wrestles with her own role as a new mother. Writing late at night, Nguyen’s meditations address the intimately personal questions that, in one way or another, haunt most of us—those about belonging, identity, being loved, and loving. —Al Woodworth, Amazon Editor
You know how you have some friends that you’ll listen to forever and follow wherever? Well, Andrew Leland is that kind of writer. And his latest, The Country of the Blind, pushes that boundary. Midway through his life he is diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, which means that his vision will deteriorate and one day—who knows when—he will become blind. Leland decides to address the prognosis head on: researching, attending conferences, and negotiating the language, customs, and politics of the blind. In doing so, his relationship changes, not only with the visual world, but with his family. Leland’s relentless curiosity is infectious and because he leans towards the humorous, he is just the kind of writer that will open your eyes about, quite literally what it is to see—and to what it is not to. —Al Woodworth, Amazon Editor