Hickey: Finding enjoyment in nonfiction

Since that fateful day in elementary school when we were hauled into the library and taught the… Since that fateful day in elementary school when we were hauled into the library and taught the difference between the fiction section and the nonfiction section, the split has been clear — nonfiction is for work and fiction is for play.

But for the past several decades, that perception has been changing. According to The Daily Beast, memoirs are now out-selling novels by such a wide margin that some in the book business believe that we are standing at the deathbed of fiction.

But even in this most exciting time for nonfiction, most of us were raised on a diet of textbooks and dry examinations of the Vietnam War. So if you’re looking to explore the literature of fact without risking boredom or the feeling that you’re doing extra homework, here are some good places to start.

The comedic memoir: Put simply, these are fun. A good comedic memoir is written with a perfect blend of real-person honesty and larger-than-life flair. It makes you feel like you’re listening to your zaniest friend — the one who tells amazing stories — recount his or her latest exploits over coffee. David Sedaris is the current king of relating incidents with relentless wit and shameless self-parody, from his stay in a nudist colony to his brief stint as an elf in the New York City Macy’s during Christmas season.

Sloane Crosby, author of “How Did You Get This Number?” and “I Was Told There’d Be Cake,” also hails from the school of comic essays — detailing, among other things, her failed quest throughout college and young adulthood to have a one-night stand. For more self-referential fare, check out Stephen Markley’s “Publish This Book, a (premature) memoir,” a rollicking and delightfully “meta” account of his attempt to publish a book about his attempt to publish a book.

The serious memoir: Of course, a good comedic memoir will make you think, but sometimes you want to skip the jokes and dig into something more emotional. These are tricky. Reading the sordid details of another person’s life can feel unpleasantly voyeuristic, and a memoir that offers nothing but misery will leave you feeling deeply disturbed, and not in a beneficial or mind-expanding way. For instance, don’t go in for the likes of “A Child Called It” unless you want to be sick to your stomach.

In this category, I reiterate two of my suggestions from my column on graphic novels: Craig Thompson’s “Blankets,” a long-but-captivating graphic novel dealing with faith, family and first love, and Alison Bechdel’s “Fun Home,” in which the author comes to terms with her own homosexuality against the backdrop of her closeted father’s possible suicide.

Also exemplary is Maxine Hong Kingston’s 1975 memoir “The Woman Warrior: Memoirs of a Girlhood Among Ghosts,” which uses Chinese folktales to make the narrator’s stories of immigrant life in the ’60s leap off the page.

Educational nonfiction: My strongest recommendation in this category is Gavin de Becker’s “The Gift of Fear,” which examines violence and violence prevention from the date-stalker to the presidential assassin. I truly believe it could save your life.

Beyond that, here more than anywhere you can let your selections be guided by your preferences — whatever it is you’re passionate about, the chances are good that someone has written an awesome book about it. Interested in social phenomena? Check out something by Malcolm Gladwell, author of “Blink” and “The Tipping Point,” or sample Steven Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner’s “Freakonomics.” If you’re a history buff seeking to understand social shifts in the 20th century, check out the work of Tom Wolfe and Joan Didion — authors of “The Electric Cool-Aid Acid Test” and “Slouching Towards Bethlehem,” respectively.

If you’re interested in politics, your options are limitless — but in this arena, remember that if it sounds sensationalized, it probably is. Another caveat for readers looking to be informed while reading for pleasure: If you’re seeking to learn about another culture, choose a book from an insider’s perspective — a native, not an American traveler. The Carnegie Public Library has a broad selection of international literature in translation, and you’ll only learn so much about another society reading what Americans have to say.

Of course, I haven’t touched on the semi-fiction of Hunter S. Thompson’s “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” and Sylvia Plath’s “The Bell Jar,” which are classified as novels but directly echo the experiences of the authors. I also haven’t mentioned the joy some people derive from reading diaries and correspondences — a friend of mine swears that F. Scott Fitzgerald’s love letters to his wife, which have been collected in “Dear Scott, Dearest Zelda: The Love Letters of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald,” are far more valuable than the author’s novels. Another friend’s life was changed by “The Journals of Sylvia Plath.”