Jim Abbott and Tim Brown, Imperfect: An improbable life. NY: Ballantine, 2012.

Jim Abbott spent ten years as a left-handed pitcher in the Major Leagues, earning nearly $13,000,000 (and an Olympic gold medal), in spite of being born without a right hand.

Interspersing inning-by-inning reports of the no-hitter he threw in 1993, and drawing parallels between that game and him personal development, gives this memoir focus and momentum generally lacking in sports (auto)biographies. Very thoughtful and well-written, this volume will be inspirational for any audience.

Dirk Hayhurst, The Bullpen Gospels. New York: Citadel Press, 2010.

Dirk Hayhurst is a Major League pitcher--because, like the President, once one attains the title 'Major Leaguer', it sticks no matter what may follow. Hayhurst was drafted out of Kent State University by the San Diego Padres, and this book is his memoir of one season in the Padres' minor league development system.

This is not, however, a book about baseball; as Hayhurst notes, "for all the great things baseball is, there are some things it is absolutely not. And that is what this story is all about." That may be counter-intuitive, since Hayhurst writes about learning to play the game and about some of the games he played, but the story really isn't about becomeing a ballplayer. Honus Wagner, Hall of Fame shortstop for the Pittsburgh Pirates, said "There ain't much to being a ballplayer, if you're a ballplayer"; Hayhurst, who can throw a ball near ninety miles an hour, is already a ballplayer when the story opens. But he is also a recent college graduate, single, living on an air mattress at his grandmother's house and doubting his prospects. This story isn't about becoming a ballplayer; it is about becoming a man.

Every story needs a setting, though, and the trials of a minor-league season provide Hayhurst innumerable opprotunities for fun. While names have been changed and some characters are composites, everything is based on real incidents, allowing reader entry into a heavily-guarded world many have wished to experience. It isn't an expose or game-by-game recap, but Hayhurst does share some locker-room discussions (if terrorists put a gun to your head, which team-mate(s) would you sleep with?), bus-trip high-jinks (Midnight Express might not be a good entertainment choice), and the general anxiety of young men who have never really felt failure but now struggle against great odds. It is very enjoyable, a quick and engaging read appropriate for any post-adolecent audience (it IS full of locker-room language), and an especially good choice for high-school boys.

Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft. NY: Scribner, 2000. Stephen King, the master of contemporary horror with over 350 million copies of his books in print, is one of the best-selling authors in the world. As such, he clearly has much to say about how to write, right? But, as the subtitle suggests, On Writing is a memoir, not a how-to book. In fact, only about a third of the book actually discusses the craft of writing, and much of that is standard advice: read a lot and write a lot; don't show off the work until after a second draft; write for a specific, personal audience; a second draft should equal the first draft less ten percent; pay attention to Strunk & White's Elements of Style. All of the advice is good, but none of it is new or unique. King readily admits as much. No, what makes On Writing interesting is the personal history King shares. By allowing us to see some of the early influences on his life, King helps us understand his motivations and the sources of his creativity. We also see the long, demanding developmental arch from high-school scribbler to best-seller; the effort King made in pursuit of his career is daunting, but ultimately provides hope. While he states that it is impossible to make a competent writer from a bad one, or a great writer from a good one, he believes it is possible for a competent writer to become good. King's book won't help much with this, but it does offer inspiration and encouragement for those trying to break into the field.