When I went on submission with what would become Wildfire Days, a memoir of my time fighting wildfires in California, a message I received more than once was: “Sorry, books about women in ‘military-like’ professions just don’t sell. People don’t want to read about that.” The implication seemed to be that women’s books should stay more “girlish” to have wide appeal. I am determined to prove that stories about women doing the most technical, filthy, physically arduous, dangerous, and male-dominated jobs are exactly what we should be reading. In a time of backsliding progressive policy, when Roe v. Wade has been repealed and women’s rights and bodies are under attack, it’s more urgent than ever to uplift stories about female diversity and strength. 

Perhaps readers and literary gatekeepers fear such stories will become little more than a litany of woes, the feral moan of the oppressed woman-among-monsters. To be sure, a number of the books on this list detail harassment, exclusion, and even rape. It’s vital that these stories be shared and discussed, because women (and nonbinary and trans people) continue to be subjected to misogyny and mistreatment in many, if not most, male-dominated spaces.

But the dark side of these professions isn’t the whole story. These are books about women finding joy, coming into their prowess, and discovering their place in the world through the toughest jobs. In hard labor, they reclaim their animal selves and find satisfaction, camaraderie, and belonging—even within male dominated groups. Often, the protagonists also grapple with a changing world as global warming, economic instability, and ever-widening inequities make low-paying, weather-dependent jobs increasingly precarious.

These women’s stories, then, are beautifully complex. They’re about ladies who work hard in mysterious, misunderstood industries. They suffer and struggle and can’t find anywhere to pee. Sometimes they’re victimized. And yet, in each of these stories, the women grow stronger than they ever imagined. Their books are about finding strength, resilience, joy, belonging, and so much more in the grittiest, most “masculine” workplaces. 

Thick Skin: Field Notes from a Sister in the Brotherhood by Hilary Peach

I have to admit straightaway that, before reading Thick Skin, I didn’t know exactly what a boilermaker was, but I knew it sounded tough as hell. A boilermaker is a construction welder, which, as Peach’s book humbly demonstrates, is an entirely badass and rather terrifying job (picture being lowered in a basket with a crane to weld a plate onto the side of a massive cruise ship). In this memoir of episodic stories, Peach tracks her many assignments and the progression of her skills as a welder in Canada—where she was based—and on assignment in the U.S. While misogyny is rampant in the male-dominated field of boilermaking, Peach’s approach is even-handed: she shows villains who tell her to “go home” alongside lovable mentors, allowing her male colleagues to be as human as herself. Peach, also a poet, writes beautifully (and humorously too!). I love this one and it deserves more attention than it has thus far received.

Hotshot: A Life on Fire by River Selby

This is the story of Selby’s years as a wildland firefighter on elite hotshot crews throughout the American West. While Selby now identifies as nonbinary, they identified as a woman and were treated as such during their time firefighting, suffering discrimination, sexual harassment, and outright bullying (trigger warnings abound, but it’s important that writers like Selby tell their stories in full). This is far more than a tale of female struggle against adversity; Selby also weaves in a deeply-researched account of fire history, indigenous ecological knowledge, land management and beautiful, affecting scenes that follow their relationship with a cruel, unstable mother. The combination of firefighting action, personal memoir, and rich scientific context makes this a powerful read.

The Dirty Life: A Memoir of Farming, Food, and Love by Kristin Kimball

This is the tale of a woman who leaves her quintessential Manhattan writer’s life (Lower East Side apartment, heels, and at least four casual non-boyfriends) to start a farm with a man she’s fallen in love with. This book diverges from the others in that Kimball didn’t exactly enter a male-dominated profession; rather, she entered a partnership. But in every other way, Kimball and her beau face the fight of their lives, trying to feed not just themselves but a community of 100 people–members of a subscription program who pick up weekly farm-share boxes year-round. Struggles abound, from endless labor to blizzards to rat infestations. Food itself plays a central role, and Kimball’s descriptions of her meals made my mouth water. The writing is deft and lovely, not a word out of place. I couldn’t put this one down.

Welcome to the Goddamn Ice Cube: Chasing Fear and Finding Home in the Great White North by Blair Braverman

I had heard of Braverman in the ambient way that anyone into outdoor adventure will know about the token “women in the wild” books. I was prompted to grab a copy because I loved Braverman’s social media presence, in which she chronicles the antics of her sled dogs. The book’s tone is different, less playful, the narrative voice sometimes as severe as the landscapes she inhabits. Braverman returns to Norway—where she studied abroad as a teenager—to run sled dogs and search for herself, “trying to answer private questions about violence and belonging and cold.” Her story is full of danger, action, dogs, and ice, but it’s primarily a tale about the vulnerability of living in a female body, being constantly scrutinized and threatened by men, and living in mostly-male communities. Braverman’s true battle is to feel safe in her own skin.

Shoot Like a Girl: One Woman’s Dramatic Fight in Afghanistan and on the Home Front by Mary Jennings Hegar

“Many don’t think that there are women serving in combat roles. Others think that the women who do serve in combat shrink in fear when the bullets fly. I know differently, and I wanted you to know, too.” Hegar could be writing a manifesto on behalf of all the women on this list. Her memoir tracks heroism on two fronts: first, as an Air Force pilot who, despite sustaining an injury during a medevac mission, saves the lives of her patients and crew; second, as an activist in the battle to end a policy that excluded women from ground combat. I love all the little moments I can identify with, like when Hegar wonders how she’ll pee while flying a helicopter, noting that the men around her can pee in a bottle anytime. But more than that, I love that she puts a name to the invisibility of women in male-dominated fields and the rampant underestimation of their strengths.

My Fishing Life: A Story of the Sea by Ashley Mullenger with Lynne Barrett-Lee

A memoir from one of the few female commercial “fishermen” in the UK, this book follows Mullenger’s struggle to learn the trade under the tutelage of her benevolent skipper, Nigel. I knew fishing was filthy, smelly work because I almost married into an oyster farming family, but I hadn’t considered just how dangerous the profession could be. Mullenger illustrates how a line of pots dragged off the end of the boat can snag your ankle, pull you into the ocean, and drown you—not to mention weather, underwater hazards, and all the other ways the sea can take a life. Her story is full of action, helpful explication of the mechanics of the work, vivid landscapes (waterscapes?), and endearing characters. My fellow Yanks may be as charmed as I was by the Britishness of the prose, complete with crab bait that’s “a bit whiffy” and a town named Wells-next-the-Sea. Color me fascinated and inspired. I mean, sorry, colour.

Dirty Work: Essential Jobs and the Hidden Toll of Inequality in America by Eyal Press

Press is our honorary man here; I decided I would allow about as many men on this list, percentage-wise, as there are women on the average wildland firefighting crew. But with any luck, we won’t make Press feel tokenized. His book is a smart, deeply-reported study of “essential” jobs in America, so many of which fall to women, people of color, undocumented immigrants, and other marginalized groups. Press defines “dirty work” in terms of morally-ambiguous, underappreciated tasks like animal slaughter. The financial precarity and physical toll of such jobs can leave scars seen and unseen, including PTSD and the invisible “moral injury” of having done something, out of necessity, that doesn’t align with one’s ethics.