Grit Lit


The Devil All the Time
Winter's Bone
Bull Mountain (Bull Mountain, #1)
Where All Light Tends to Go
No Country for Old Men
Joe
Serena
Knockemstiff
Child of God
Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter
The Line That Held Us
One Foot in Eden
A Feast of Snakes
Gods of Howl Mountain
Blood Meridian, or, the Evening Redness in the West
Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourtBastard Out of Carolina by Dorothy AllisonThe Outsiders by S.E. HintonTobacco Road by Erskine CaldwellThe Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
White Trash Literature
191 books — 52 voters
Midnight In the Garden of Good and Evil by John BerendtTo Kill a Mockingbird by Harper LeeThe Violent Bear It Away by Flannery O'ConnorWise Blood by Flannery O'ConnorJoe by Larry Brown
The Belled Buzzard - Reading List
90 books — 9 voters

The Devil All the Time by Donald Ray PollockNo Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthyKnockemstiff by Donald Ray PollockThe Road by Cormac McCarthyWinter's Bone by Daniel Woodrell
Regional Grit Lit
120 books — 87 voters
The Killer Inside Me by Jim ThompsonDouble Indemnity by James M. CainThe Postman Always Rings Twice by James M. CainThe Big Sleep by Raymond ChandlerThe Getaway by Jim Thompson
Alan Guthrie's 200 Noirs
118 books — 34 voters

Lie to Me by J.T. EllisonThe Last Mrs. Parrish by Liv ConstantineBonfire by Krysten RitterThe Wife Between Us by Greer HendricksThe Blackbird Season by Kate Moretti
Jen's Reading List: Grit Lit
9 books — 2 voters

Ian Pisarcik
The town of North Falls consisted of twenty-eight square miles positioned on a high plateau in the southern region of the Green Mountain range. It had the highest altitude of any village in the state, which meant the snow came early and it came often. It also meant that the first thing anybody noticed about the town was the church steeple. The rotting whitewashed wood and the slatted oval window and the copper spire all connected to the simple wood framing. It was the highest point in the state, ...more
Ian Pisarcik, Before Familiar Woods

Daniel Woodrell
In the morning we shed our blue sheep’s clothing. Our border shirts came out of satchels and onto our backs. We preferred this means of dress for it was more flatout and honest. The shirts were large with pistol pockets, and usually colored red or dun. Many had been embroidered with ornate stitching by loving women some were blessed enough to have. Mine was plain, but well broken in. I can think of no more chilling a sight than that of myself all astride my big bay horse with six or eight pistol ...more
Daniel Woodrell, Woe to Live On

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