This autobiography by the sport’s first African American world champion is “a compelling story for any cycling fan” (Outside).
 
More than a century ago, Marshall “Major” Taylor overcame racial prejudice to become one of the most dominant cyclists in history. The Fastest Bicycle Rider in the World, which Taylor self-published in 1928, gives a riveting first-person account of his rise to the highest echelons of professional cycling.
 
Born in Indianapolis, he eventually became the first African American cycling world champion, going on to set seven world records in the sport. Here he recounts his exploits as an athlete, including his early taste of success in a grueling six-day race, his unparalleled dominance as a sprinter, and some of his most bitter defeats. But the man who achieved international fame as the “Black Cyclone” also details the extreme prejudice he faced both on and off the track. This is a story about one of the greatest athletes in American history, but also a moving testament to Taylor’s resilience and determination in the face of overt racism and seemingly impossible odds.
 
“Taylor paints vivid a picture of bike racing in the United States at the turn of the [twentieth] century, and highlights his mental process in dealing with racism . . . all while becoming, indeed, the fastest bike racer in the world.” —Outside
 
Includes an introduction by Zito Madu

“A story that pays careful attention to what it meant (and means) to live in the Midwest, open to both its charms and its challenges.” —Sarah Laskow, The Millions
 
Hugh McVey moves from Missouri to the agrarian town of Bidwell, Ohio. He invents a mechanical cabbage planter to ease the burden of famers, but an investor in town exploits his product, which fails to succeed. His next invention, a corn cutter, makes him a millionaire and transforms Bidwell into a center of manufacturing. McVey, perennially lonely and ruminative, meets Clara Butterworth, who attends college at nearby Ohio State and is perennially harassed by her potential matches. Published in 1920, one year after his classic short story collection, Winesburg, Ohio, Poor White has a modernist style, a realist attention to everyday life, and an eerily contemporary resonance.
 
“Belt Revivals wisely brings Anderson back onto the radar during this political moment” —New York Times
 
“For the past five years, a small press called Belt Publishing has been bringing out intriguing nonfiction books about the Midwest; now they've started a new series called “Belt Revivals,” to publish classic Midwestern fiction as well as nonfiction.” —Maureen Corrigan, NPR

“Much like Asimov . . . Harris’ stories possess something of the eternal . . . They have retained their power to spark the imagination.” —Tangent Online

Science fiction has historically been seen as a man’s game, but from the very beginning, women have made their indelible mark on the genre. One of science fiction’s pioneers, Claire Winger Harris is credited as the first woman to publish under her own name in sci-fi magazines.

In Harris’s world, you’ll find gigantic insects, Martians looking to steal Earth’s water, and time travel to ancient Rome. Scholar Brad Ricca assembles ten of Harris's greatest short stories here, including “The Fifth Dimension,” “The Fate of the Poseidonia,” “The Menace of Mars,” and “The Vibrometer.” Their ideas are as fresh today as when Harris originally wrote them a century ago.

A wonderful collection by a little-known master of science fiction, this book will hold interest for feminist readers and scholars of sci-fi alike.

This unsung classic of American literature helps shed light on both Ohio and the career of a writer known as the “Dean of American Letters.”
 
With a new introduction by Anne Trubek
 
A novelist, critic, and playwright, William Dean Howells was friends with such luminaries as Mark Twain, Henry James, and Oliver Wendell Holmes. Though he’s best known for his East Coast novels like The Rise of Silas Lampham and A Hazard of New Fortunes, Howells never forgot his roots in Ohio. And in Stories of Ohio, he offers a series of short vignettes that chronicle the state’s history, including: 
 

• the Native burial grounds of the Serpent Mound
• the first European settlers on the frontier
• Ohio’s role in the War of 1812
• the Civil War generals and presidents the state birthed in the late nineteenth century.

 
Though this history primarily focuses on life in Ohio before the nineteenth century, it will help today’s reader see the state in a brand-new light.
 
“If these Stories distill into two hundred pages what Ohio was, they also suggest what Ohio could have been if compassion and a desire for intercultural exchange had superseded conquest as a motivating force on the frontier.” —James Bruggeman at the Russell Kirk Center for Cultural Renewal

With “much humor” and “awareness of family dynamics” this classic novel “stands as an enduring portrait of women torn between duty and self-fulfillment”(Publishers Weekly).
 
First published in 1921, Edna Ferber’s The Girls revolves around the “three Charlottes” of the Thrift family—Great-Aunt Charlotte, her niece Lottie, and Lottie’s niece Charley. All single “old maids,” as the narrator describes them, their lives weave together as they deal with issues involving money, work, friendship, family, and love as they strive to join Chicago’s growing middle class in the early twentieth century.

With a historic span that travels from the Civil War to World War I, Ferber highlights how the three generations of Charlottes lead very different lives. But we also see the ways their experiences rhyme with one another and how, despite the social advances in America, as Kathleen Rooney writes in her introduction, all three have to confront “a sexist and claustrophobic societal atmosphere in which any little act of self-assertion can feel like a leap from a precipice.”
Told through Ferber’s assured and generous style, and full of her signature strong female characters, The Girls is an American classic.
 
“This is one of those books that nails setting and character so well that plot is mostly beside the point. . . . Ferber splits the difference with clearer prose and keener insight than [Sister Carrie author Theodore] Dreiser managed, while incorporating some of the same dry humor that [Babbitt author Sinclair] Lewis used to describe midwestern strivers.” —Dmitry Samarov, Chicago Reader

“Written with such verve and insight that it could be a piece of historical fiction produced last week.” —Patrick T. Reardon, Third Coast Review