No point being indirect. A Flower Traveled in My Blood (2025) is the best non-fiction book I've finished so far this year as well as being one of the best of its type that I've ever read.
Subtitled The Incredible True Story of Grandmothers Who Fought to Find a Stolen Generation of Children, author Haley Cohen Gilliland expertly tells this riveting tale without sentiment or flourish. I guarantee the indefatigable grit of this group of Argentinian women will move and inspire you in equal measure. I was never out of the spell. The last time I can recall being as intensely involved in a book like this was while reading Patrick Radden Keefe's account of the troubles in Northern Ireland in Say Nothing (2018).
Earlier today as I finished Gilliland's tour-de-force, thoughts I'd entertained about extolling a different worthwhile book of non-fiction in my next blog post were immediately scuttled. For me, this book reset the bar. When my club discusses it at our July meeting, it will be difficult to stay in my usual role of neutral moderator. A Flower Traveled in My Blood is a home run.
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