The bestselling author of The Nightingale—and whose new novel, The Four Winds, is one of the biggest releases of the season—shares a look at her book-loving life.

What are your bookstore rituals?
Wow. In all my years of talking about books, this is a question I have never been asked before. And I definitely do have bookstore rituals. It begins, of course, with the window. I'm always interested in what books are displayed in the window of a bookstore, so I guess my ritual begins before I even open the door. Once inside, I head straight to the fiction new releases. From there, I move leisurely toward the current bestseller bookcase and then to the staff recommendations. By now, I usually have an armful of books, but I can never leave without checking out the children's section and browsing through the history section. After that, I could head anywhere.

"We moved around a lot when I was a kid, and our first stop in every new town was the library."

Tell us about your favorite library from when you were a child.
Honestly, my favorite library belonged to my mother. She was an avid reader and collected books of all kinds. I remember her tall stack of Book of the Month titles. I spent years perusing her shelves and choosing books and allowing her to choose for me. One of my favorite memories of childhood is talking about those books with my mom. Afterward, of course, she introduced me to our local library and helped me to get my first library card—my passport to other worlds. We moved around a lot when I was a kid, and our first stop in every new town was the library.

While researching your books, have you ever made an especially surprising discovery among the stacks?
I have spent many hours in both libraries and bookstores—new and used—in my research. The one that comes to mind right now is the Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas at Austin. I spent many wonderful hours there, wearing white gloves, reading the handwritten firsthand accounts of Ms. Sanora Babb, a young woman who worked at the Farm Security Administration migrant camp in California in the late 1930s. Her words were a gold mine of information.

Do you have a favorite bookstore or library from literature?
Oh, so many! The first that comes to mind, of course, is the magical Hogwarts library. Who wouldn't want to lose themselves among the stacks there? And then there's the equally magical Cemetery of Forgotten Books in Carlos Ruiz Zafón's remarkable novel The Shadow of the Wind. More recently, I found myself enraptured by Matt Haig's The Midnight Library, in which a library becomes the catalyst for looking at one's own lost lives and untaken chances.

Do you have a "bucket list" of bookstores and libraries you'd love to visit but haven't yet?
Doesn't everyone? How much time do we have? My bucket list of libraries is topped by Trinity College Library in Dublin. I used to dream of going there as a girl, and I've never lost the hope that I will visit it someday. Honestly, I love bookstores and libraries everywhere. I try to visit them whenever and wherever I am traveling.

What's the last thing you checked out from your library or bought at your local bookstore?
I checked out a book last week, a memoir written by a female journalist that I couldn't find in print anywhere. The last thing I bought at my local bookstore was actually about five minutes ago. I called my local indie bookseller and ordered a copy of Caste.

How is your own personal library organized?
My research library, which is extensive because I've been writing novels now for close to 30 years and I rarely get rid of anything I've read, is organized by topic. My fiction library is a glorious, beautiful mess. The only way I find anything is because I peruse it so often that I practically have each shelf memorized.

Bookstore cats or bookstore dogs?
I am a cat person, but I love any animal curled up in a bookstore.

 

Author photo by Kevin Lynch

Like a wise and imaginative teacher, Kristin Hannah imbues past events with relevance and significance in her novel The Four Winds.

In 1921, as a sickly, homebound teen, Elsa dreams big. One night she sneaks away from the protective eyes of her family and thrills at the attention paid to her by Rafe Martinelli, a dashing Italian immigrant. When she becomes pregnant by Rafe, Elsa is disowned by her parents, and Rafe's family takes in the young couple. Soon Elsa becomes an indispensable member of the Martinelli farm. But when Rafe abandons his family and dust storms begin to ravage the land, Elsa and her children journey to California in search of a better life. What they find is devastation, not of the landscape but of human souls, ground down by mistreatment. Elsa finally realizes her big dream, becoming a warrior matriarch who fights for justice.

The story builds to epic proportions over its four distinct parts. The spare writing in the 1921-set first section imparts the starkness of Elsa's childhood and the barrenness of the landscape, like a Dorothea Lange photograph come alive. The second part, set in 1934, depicts family tensions as Elsa's rootedness chafes against Rafe's desire to leave the floundering farm. Their daughter, Loreda, exacerbates their differences through her tenacious yet rebellious spirit. In the third part, set in 1935, the drama of deprivation gives way to the thrill of the open road on the way to California. Mother-daughter sparring allows their relationship to grow, and they're supported by fellow women in the migrant camp.

But the greatest adventure awaits in the final part, amid violent protests against cotton growers in 1936. Anger over failed crops, failed marriages and failed dreams finds a worthy outlet in the migrant workers' collective resistance against injustice. At a migrant worker school in California, feisty and eager 13-year-old Loreda is too preoccupied with the troubles of the present to endure boring history lessons, and it's not long before she becomes an activist for change, following in her mother's footsteps.

With biting dialogue that holds nothing back, The Four Winds is classic in its artistry. Overtones of America's present political struggles echo throughout the novel's events. These indomitable female characters foreshadow the nation's sweeping change through their fierce commitment to each other and to a common, timeless goal.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Kristin Hannah shares a look at her book-loving life.

Elsa Wolcott was stricken with rheumatic fever at 14 and was subsequently sheltered by her parents. Skinny, unusually tall, and thought to be too fragile to engage in routine activities, she had only books as her companions. She turns 25 in 1921; her family sees her as an unattractive spinster. When Elsa boldly escapes the confines of her home seeking excitement, she meets a young Italian man named Rafe Martinelli, which alters her path. Soon, she is living on a wheat farm in the Texas Panhandle, embracing her new life. This exquisite novel follows Elsa through nearly two decades of hardship, including the Dust Bowl, droughts, the Great Depression, migrant farming in California, and a devastating flood. VERDICT Through Elsa's eyes, readers travel through the Great Depression era and experience firsthand the difficulties faced in the Great Plains. Historical fiction readers will become immersed in this poignant story by Hannah (The Nightingale; The Great Alone) and will enjoy witnessing Elsa's transformation from fragile, insecure girl to fearless, resilient woman.—Mary Todd Chesnut, Northern Kentucky Univ. Lib., Highland Heights

Hannah (The Great Alone) brings Dust Bowl migration to life in this riveting story of love, courage, and sacrifice. In 1934 Texas, after four years of drought, the Martinelli farm is no longer thriving, but Elsa is attached to the land and her in-laws, and she works tirelessly and cares for her children, 12-year-old Loreda and seven-year-old Anthony. Her husband, Rafe, has become distant and something of a hard drinker, and after he abandons them, Elsa reluctantly leaves with her children for California with the promise of steady work. Her dreams of a better future are interrupted by the discrimination they face in the unwelcoming town of Welty, where they are forced to live in a migrant camp and work for extremely low wages picking cotton. When Elsa's meager wages are further reduced and she has the opportunity to join striking workers, she must decide whether to face the dangers of standing up for herself and her fellow workers. Hannah combines gritty realism with emotionally rich characters and lyrical prose that rings brightly and true from the first line ("Hope is a coin I carry: an American penny, given to me by a man I came to love"). In Elsa, a woman who fiercely defends her principles and those she loves, Hannah brilliantly revives the ghost of Tom Joad. (Feb.)