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We Should All Be Birds: A Memoir
A charming and moving debut memoir about how a man with a mystery illness saves a pigeon, and how the pigeon saves the man.
On a spring evening in Montana, Brian Buckbee encounters an injured baby pigeon. Heartbroken after the loss of the love of his life and increasingly isolated by a mysterious illness that overtook him while trekking through Asia, Brian is unaware that this bird—who he names Two-Step—will change his life. Brian takes in Two-Step, and more injured birds, eventually transforming his home into a madcap bird rehabilitation and rescue center. As Brian and Two-Step grow closer, an unexpected kinship forms. But their paths won’t converge as Two-Step heals and finds love, Brian’s condition worsens, and with his friend’s release back into the world looming closer, Brian must decide where this story leaves him.
We Should All Be Birds follows Brian, unable to read or write due to a never-ending headache, as he dictates the end of his old life—as an adventurer, an iconoclastic university instructor, and endurance athlete—through his relationship with a pigeon that comes to define his present. Limited to dictation, Brian teams up with Carol Ann Fitzgerald, an editor who channels the details of his personal history to the pages. Raw and perceptive, delirious and devastating, We Should All Be Birds is an unflinching exploration of chronic illness, grief, connection, and the spectacular beauty of the natural world—and the humble pigeon. The surprising, heartwarming relationship between man and bird provides insight into what it means to love, to suffer, and to “never forget, even for a second, how big it all is.”
On a spring evening in Montana, Brian Buckbee encounters an injured baby pigeon. Heartbroken after the loss of the love of his life and increasingly isolated by a mysterious illness that overtook him while trekking through Asia, Brian is unaware that this bird—who he names Two-Step—will change his life. Brian takes in Two-Step, and more injured birds, eventually transforming his home into a madcap bird rehabilitation and rescue center. As Brian and Two-Step grow closer, an unexpected kinship forms. But their paths won’t converge as Two-Step heals and finds love, Brian’s condition worsens, and with his friend’s release back into the world looming closer, Brian must decide where this story leaves him.
We Should All Be Birds follows Brian, unable to read or write due to a never-ending headache, as he dictates the end of his old life—as an adventurer, an iconoclastic university instructor, and endurance athlete—through his relationship with a pigeon that comes to define his present. Limited to dictation, Brian teams up with Carol Ann Fitzgerald, an editor who channels the details of his personal history to the pages. Raw and perceptive, delirious and devastating, We Should All Be Birds is an unflinching exploration of chronic illness, grief, connection, and the spectacular beauty of the natural world—and the humble pigeon. The surprising, heartwarming relationship between man and bird provides insight into what it means to love, to suffer, and to “never forget, even for a second, how big it all is.”
256 pages, Hardcover
First published August 1, 2025
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 38 reviews
July 28, 2025
3.5 stars, rounded up or down based on mood.
This was one of those books I wanted to love. I first saw it on Instagram, then happened across it on NetGalley and thought, “Yes, this one.” I even gave myself a few days to finish another read and emotionally prepare for what I thought would be a devastating portrait of a monumental human-animal friendship. What I got instead was… different. Still tender, still vulnerable, but in a way that never quite aligned with its title or my expectations.
Because of the author's illness, the book is dictated, not traditionally written. As a result, the structure leans more toward a collection of short-to-medium journal-style reflections with some leaning humorous, some poignant, some loosely tethered to a central arc. There were early lines that really worked for me:
“Traffic (an invasive species).”
“Usually all I can see in the rearview mirror is his gorgeous butt…”
“CxwszA” (Two-Step’s first word—“What is he trying to say to us? What is on his mind?”)
These moments felt warm and strange in all the right ways.
In hindsight, maybe the point of these early vignettes is to establish just how grounding and essential this strange little pigeon, Two-Step, and his feathered cohorts became in Buckbee’s life after things had already taken a darker turn. So that when he finally recounts the earlier trip to Asia, which is rife with dismissive doctors, doubts from his brother, and a rescue mission led by a fiercely loyal friend, we understand what was at stake. Why survival mattered. Why it was even possible.
Still, from a narrative standpoint, the structure didn’t always work for me. The emotional thread that begins with Two-Step and the pandemic-era pigeon rescue quietly fades once the focus shifts to Buckbee’s past. I think the book would’ve been stronger had it alternated between timelines, braiding his physical and emotional collapse with the fragile new life he built with and around the birds. The title promises one thing; the latter chapters offer another.
As for Buckbee’s love story with “L.,” it’s a tricky thing. We're clearly meant to feel the weight of this relationship, but what we’re shown feels more obsessive than romantic. He refers to their friends being against the pairing when they began dating—without elaboration. He notes her leaving him, more than once, but doesn’t clarify how or why. It left me wanting closure that never came, not for him or for me as a reader.
There’s also a repeated reference to Two-Step being hit by a car (I think more than once?), but I genuinely don’t recall the story actually being told. Could be my own foggy memory (it took me ten days to read this, and I was in a bit of a personal funk) but the pacing definitely contributed.
All of that said, there are still meaningful reflections here. Loving someone (human or animal) so fiercely you’d speed 90 in a 40, or hold on until “there is nothing to do but let them go,” those moments hit. There is quiet devastation here, even if it didn’t come in the form I expected.
Would I recommend this? Not to everyone. It won’t explode onto the memoir scene, I don’t think. But it will quietly reach some people, and mean a lot to them. People who’ve lost love. People with chronic pain. People who’ve built their life around care, be it for animals, for others, for something fleeting and difficult and maybe even doomed.
Thanks to NetGalley and Tin House for this ARC.
This was one of those books I wanted to love. I first saw it on Instagram, then happened across it on NetGalley and thought, “Yes, this one.” I even gave myself a few days to finish another read and emotionally prepare for what I thought would be a devastating portrait of a monumental human-animal friendship. What I got instead was… different. Still tender, still vulnerable, but in a way that never quite aligned with its title or my expectations.
Because of the author's illness, the book is dictated, not traditionally written. As a result, the structure leans more toward a collection of short-to-medium journal-style reflections with some leaning humorous, some poignant, some loosely tethered to a central arc. There were early lines that really worked for me:
“Traffic (an invasive species).”
“Usually all I can see in the rearview mirror is his gorgeous butt…”
“CxwszA” (Two-Step’s first word—“What is he trying to say to us? What is on his mind?”)
These moments felt warm and strange in all the right ways.
In hindsight, maybe the point of these early vignettes is to establish just how grounding and essential this strange little pigeon, Two-Step, and his feathered cohorts became in Buckbee’s life after things had already taken a darker turn. So that when he finally recounts the earlier trip to Asia, which is rife with dismissive doctors, doubts from his brother, and a rescue mission led by a fiercely loyal friend, we understand what was at stake. Why survival mattered. Why it was even possible.
Still, from a narrative standpoint, the structure didn’t always work for me. The emotional thread that begins with Two-Step and the pandemic-era pigeon rescue quietly fades once the focus shifts to Buckbee’s past. I think the book would’ve been stronger had it alternated between timelines, braiding his physical and emotional collapse with the fragile new life he built with and around the birds. The title promises one thing; the latter chapters offer another.
As for Buckbee’s love story with “L.,” it’s a tricky thing. We're clearly meant to feel the weight of this relationship, but what we’re shown feels more obsessive than romantic. He refers to their friends being against the pairing when they began dating—without elaboration. He notes her leaving him, more than once, but doesn’t clarify how or why. It left me wanting closure that never came, not for him or for me as a reader.
There’s also a repeated reference to Two-Step being hit by a car (I think more than once?), but I genuinely don’t recall the story actually being told. Could be my own foggy memory (it took me ten days to read this, and I was in a bit of a personal funk) but the pacing definitely contributed.
All of that said, there are still meaningful reflections here. Loving someone (human or animal) so fiercely you’d speed 90 in a 40, or hold on until “there is nothing to do but let them go,” those moments hit. There is quiet devastation here, even if it didn’t come in the form I expected.
Would I recommend this? Not to everyone. It won’t explode onto the memoir scene, I don’t think. But it will quietly reach some people, and mean a lot to them. People who’ve lost love. People with chronic pain. People who’ve built their life around care, be it for animals, for others, for something fleeting and difficult and maybe even doomed.
Thanks to NetGalley and Tin House for this ARC.
August 7, 2025
This is a charming and poignant story about chronic illness, unlikely friendship, and a pigeon named Two Step. The author shares how his debilitating condition led to a transformative bond with a bird that landed in his hands. Brian Buckbee, incapacitated by a relentless, undiagnosed illness that leaves him in constant pain and unable to read or write, discovers an injured pigeon on a spring evening in Montana. He names the fragile creature Two Step and nurses the bird back to health by helping it with its first flights and sharing silent moments during sunrise. Through tiny rituals and wordless companionship, this bird becomes not just a companion but a witness to Buckbee’s struggles and his slow journey of rebuilding.
What struck me most was the memoir’s ability to elevate the commonplace into something sublime. While Buckbee’s condition may be rare, his experiences of grief, loneliness, and the search for meaning feel universal. His tenderness toward an overlooked pigeon serves as a metaphor for redemption and witnessing—demonstrating how being seen, even by a creature that no one else may notice, can change how we perceive ourselves. This isn't just a story about illness or sanctuary; it’s a testament to how tenderness can teach us to fly again, no matter how grounded we may feel. The author reveals what it means to persevere when your body refuses to cooperate and when the world shrinks to the confines of a single room.
To listen to my interview with the author, go to my podcast at:
https://shows.acast.com/moms-dont-hav...
What struck me most was the memoir’s ability to elevate the commonplace into something sublime. While Buckbee’s condition may be rare, his experiences of grief, loneliness, and the search for meaning feel universal. His tenderness toward an overlooked pigeon serves as a metaphor for redemption and witnessing—demonstrating how being seen, even by a creature that no one else may notice, can change how we perceive ourselves. This isn't just a story about illness or sanctuary; it’s a testament to how tenderness can teach us to fly again, no matter how grounded we may feel. The author reveals what it means to persevere when your body refuses to cooperate and when the world shrinks to the confines of a single room.
To listen to my interview with the author, go to my podcast at:
https://shows.acast.com/moms-dont-hav...
July 13, 2025
This is a beautiful story of friendship and love in the midst of struggle. It is, quite possibly, the best memoir of 2025. From the very first page, the reader is taken along on two separate journeys - one of having an invisible illness and the other as a rescuer and friend to a curious, lovable pigeon named Two Step (and then many others). I'll admit, perhaps this book hit me so hard and felt so raw and honest because I also have an invisible illness, but the author communicates in a way that I think everyone would understand and empathize with his predicament (at least I hope they would). I was also surprised and delighted by Two Step, who seems to have more empathy and patience than some humans that I know. It's amazing how we can develop such relationships with animals that aren't our typical pets, isn't it?
I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who loves off-the-wall, really personal, emotional memoirs. And I will be making sure we have a copy at the library where I work.
Thank you to Tin House and W.W. Norton for the free ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who loves off-the-wall, really personal, emotional memoirs. And I will be making sure we have a copy at the library where I work.
Thank you to Tin House and W.W. Norton for the free ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
August 19, 2025
This is a quirky book, by a quirky guy, but I really liked it.
September 2, 2025
I always feel like I need to be careful when I review memoirs of people who are still living. This is particularly true in this author‘s case. As such, all I will say is that I am glad he is kind to pigeons and that I will pray for him.
September 4, 2025
I have to admit I struggled quite a bit with this book.
Firstly I'll just put it out there, that I'm in utter awe of the writer for being able to create such a personal book, or any book at all, while being unwell. I suffer from the same illness myself and I can't even begin to imagine how I would summon up the focus this must have required.
With that being said, I struggled a lot with all the things being left out. I understand having to keep some things private, but parts of the story - primarily regarding the love of his life - lacks context in my opinion.
I'm sure there's a reason behind still being this consumed by heartbreak so many years later, but without being given just the smallest crumb of understanding, I'm left wondering why this person is allowed to take up so much space throughout the book.
I know the editor encouraged the writer to include some perspective on this issue into the book but the writer refused, as is his right of course, but without any perspective at all it leaves me annoyed with the constant mention of this significant other.
I genuinely enjoyed the parts in which he mentions his illness and the struggles involved in living with this condition, seeking treatment and trying not to completely dissappear from everyone around you.
The dominating feeling I'm left with after reading this book though, is that it has potential and quirkiness but at the same time is so laced with self pity that it becomes a struggle to finish.
Firstly I'll just put it out there, that I'm in utter awe of the writer for being able to create such a personal book, or any book at all, while being unwell. I suffer from the same illness myself and I can't even begin to imagine how I would summon up the focus this must have required.
With that being said, I struggled a lot with all the things being left out. I understand having to keep some things private, but parts of the story - primarily regarding the love of his life - lacks context in my opinion.
I'm sure there's a reason behind still being this consumed by heartbreak so many years later, but without being given just the smallest crumb of understanding, I'm left wondering why this person is allowed to take up so much space throughout the book.
I know the editor encouraged the writer to include some perspective on this issue into the book but the writer refused, as is his right of course, but without any perspective at all it leaves me annoyed with the constant mention of this significant other.
I genuinely enjoyed the parts in which he mentions his illness and the struggles involved in living with this condition, seeking treatment and trying not to completely dissappear from everyone around you.
The dominating feeling I'm left with after reading this book though, is that it has potential and quirkiness but at the same time is so laced with self pity that it becomes a struggle to finish.
August 19, 2025
I looked forward to reading this story. However,
the writing was poor and disappointing. A good editor would have condensed some of the chapters. The point of the book is that birds, like other creatures, are also capable of a relationship with us. The author’s chronic headaches and fibromyalgia have ruined his life and his grief and pain from a lost love is crushing. Caring for pigeons and being cared for by Two Step is remarkable.
This story reminds me that animals are the sweetest
remedy for pain.
the writing was poor and disappointing. A good editor would have condensed some of the chapters. The point of the book is that birds, like other creatures, are also capable of a relationship with us. The author’s chronic headaches and fibromyalgia have ruined his life and his grief and pain from a lost love is crushing. Caring for pigeons and being cared for by Two Step is remarkable.
This story reminds me that animals are the sweetest
remedy for pain.
September 2, 2025
This was not so much a story about saving pigeons and learning about a man’s mystery illness as the entire book is a middle aged straight man whining about the “woman who left him 7 years ago”. Each chapter I found myself not asking questions about the pigeons or his migraine but, why hasn’t he moved on? 7 years and you’re still obsessed with the ex? Felt like diary entries that could have been left to him and his therapist.
July 15, 2025
In this memoir, we meet a man who is dealing with a unknown illness and has taken a liking to a pigeon. The book is very well written and rather sad and is told a little disjointed, but the story at its core is a good one.
August 17, 2025
Felt like I was catching up with an old friend over coffee. Shows that there are always positive pieces in life no matter one’s situation, and they’ll hit you at the most unexpected times. Really enjoyed how Two Step is described more as a friend than a pigeon.
September 5, 2025
stunning
Much in the same way as, The Sound of a Wild Snail Chewing, this book took me, lyrically and softly, into the intimate world of illness and friendship. My memory for what I read is not great, so few books stick with me. This will be one of them.
Much in the same way as, The Sound of a Wild Snail Chewing, this book took me, lyrically and softly, into the intimate world of illness and friendship. My memory for what I read is not great, so few books stick with me. This will be one of them.
June 23, 2025
Best book of 2025. Beautifully written and poignant. Animals, no matter how small or big can change a person’s life. As someone with chronic mental health issues, Brian’s story is a relatable one. I felt as if his words were my own and he was able to articulate feelings that I had long felt. Will be recommending this book to friends and family.
September 7, 2025
Confirmed I do not like memoirs. Will not be writing more on this one.
August 10, 2025
It was weird but, also very interesting. This is a very unique memoir and I’m glad I read it.
August 27, 2025
He’s so obsessed with his ex girlfriend…but really sick….and his bird did help him a lot with life. It was interesting. Just conflicted if I liked it. It made an impression…so I guess that means something.
June 11, 2025
OK. So, its not the type of book I would usually read. written journal style. But, also having chronic pain, it made sense. Hoping the book does well for him overall
August 26, 2025
A few months ago, I had just about decided to give up on memoirs about animals. After delving into books about hawks, otters, chickens and pigs, I was becoming convinced that my tolerance for reading about someone else's relationship with wild (or semi-domesticated) creatures had just about run its course. But I took one more chance with WE SHOULD ALL BE BIRDS, which Brian Buckbee wrote in collaboration with his editor, Carol Ann Fitzgerald. I suspect I'll be endlessly glad I did.
When readers first meet Buckbee, he's living in Missoula, Montana, in the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic. Like almost everyone else, his life has shrunk down until it consists mostly of the four walls of his home. But unlike most of us, his retreat had started some years earlier, after a mysterious and debilitating illness began to take over his life and abruptly brought to an end his former life of sports and adventure travel.
Buckbee's condition had been alternately misdiagnosed and dismissed for two years. Characterized primarily by an unrelenting headache and overwhelming fatigue, the closest thing to a diagnosis that he has is a label of myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS). But there's no known cause and definitely no known treatment, so a label is not much more than easy shorthand.
Buckbee's days during the pandemic are long and lonely. He's also still suffering from a devastating heartbreak after the end of his relationship with a woman known to readers only as "L." The most vivid and pleasurable parts of his day are when he's able to take his nightly medication and dream. However, interrupting this cycle of incessant pain and exhaustion is the arrival of a most uncommon bird.
The pigeon whom Buckbee eventually dubs "Two-Step" comes to his attention during one of his neighborhood walks. The bird is behaving oddly, unable to move about in a typical pigeon fashion. He seems to know that Buckbee might help him, or at least that he might be safe with this gentle, slow-moving human. Buckbee invites Two-Step into his home and nurses him back to health. But that's only the beginning.
In some other animal memoirs, Buckbee's story might have focused almost entirely on his relationship with Two-Step and on the dozens of other birds he eventually invites into his yard and home. To be sure, there are lots of scenes of careful observation (and, brace yourself, more heartache) as Buckbee writes with respect and no small bit of tenderness about the bird companions who rescue him from loneliness: "Most days, I have more interaction with birds than I do with people. Except for the occasional hug or fist bump, I haven't been touched by another human being in a long, long time. But I am touched by the birds when they stand on my toes, or when I pick up the little babies to clean the cage, or when I give Two-Step a bath."
But as it progresses, WE SHOULD ALL BE BIRDS also weaves in so many other narrative threads: his mother's own tender-heartedness toward animals, his love for Bruce Springsteen and the movie Joe Versus the Volcano, the abiding love he still holds for L. and her young son. In almost all of these strands and others, Buckbee writes of glimpsing what he calls "open door" moments. These are transcendent experiences of awe when, for example, he sees fireflies, goes swimming in the rain, or runs through suburban streets at night. And, most heartachingly of all, he narrates a multi-week trip to Southeast Asia during which his chronic symptoms first began to assert themselves. This excursion gains almost palpable longing in retrospect, now that Buckbee has begun coming to terms with the knowledge that this epic trip is likely the last one he will ever take.
That sense of relating past experiences through one's present-day lens is one of the most remarkable aspects of this memoir. At one point, pausing in relating his travels in Bali, Buckbee imagines divers exploring his own wrecked body. One observes, "Wow, that was a lot of damage," to which another responds, "Yes, it was, and now there are all those other living creatures moving in and hiding inside him, living in a thing that no longer lives."
Buckbee's words are almost staggering in their resignation and the sadness behind them, but there's also no small measure of hope here. After all, he "needed to be rescued by…an injured, vulnerable animal who himself needed care, and through his need and nature could become a door-opener." Buckbee's world may look drastically different now than it did a decade ago --- on some days he might not even recognize himself --- but thanks to Two-Step, he can still encounter those door-opening moments of wonder and awe.
Reviewed by Norah Piehl
When readers first meet Buckbee, he's living in Missoula, Montana, in the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic. Like almost everyone else, his life has shrunk down until it consists mostly of the four walls of his home. But unlike most of us, his retreat had started some years earlier, after a mysterious and debilitating illness began to take over his life and abruptly brought to an end his former life of sports and adventure travel.
Buckbee's condition had been alternately misdiagnosed and dismissed for two years. Characterized primarily by an unrelenting headache and overwhelming fatigue, the closest thing to a diagnosis that he has is a label of myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS). But there's no known cause and definitely no known treatment, so a label is not much more than easy shorthand.
Buckbee's days during the pandemic are long and lonely. He's also still suffering from a devastating heartbreak after the end of his relationship with a woman known to readers only as "L." The most vivid and pleasurable parts of his day are when he's able to take his nightly medication and dream. However, interrupting this cycle of incessant pain and exhaustion is the arrival of a most uncommon bird.
The pigeon whom Buckbee eventually dubs "Two-Step" comes to his attention during one of his neighborhood walks. The bird is behaving oddly, unable to move about in a typical pigeon fashion. He seems to know that Buckbee might help him, or at least that he might be safe with this gentle, slow-moving human. Buckbee invites Two-Step into his home and nurses him back to health. But that's only the beginning.
In some other animal memoirs, Buckbee's story might have focused almost entirely on his relationship with Two-Step and on the dozens of other birds he eventually invites into his yard and home. To be sure, there are lots of scenes of careful observation (and, brace yourself, more heartache) as Buckbee writes with respect and no small bit of tenderness about the bird companions who rescue him from loneliness: "Most days, I have more interaction with birds than I do with people. Except for the occasional hug or fist bump, I haven't been touched by another human being in a long, long time. But I am touched by the birds when they stand on my toes, or when I pick up the little babies to clean the cage, or when I give Two-Step a bath."
But as it progresses, WE SHOULD ALL BE BIRDS also weaves in so many other narrative threads: his mother's own tender-heartedness toward animals, his love for Bruce Springsteen and the movie Joe Versus the Volcano, the abiding love he still holds for L. and her young son. In almost all of these strands and others, Buckbee writes of glimpsing what he calls "open door" moments. These are transcendent experiences of awe when, for example, he sees fireflies, goes swimming in the rain, or runs through suburban streets at night. And, most heartachingly of all, he narrates a multi-week trip to Southeast Asia during which his chronic symptoms first began to assert themselves. This excursion gains almost palpable longing in retrospect, now that Buckbee has begun coming to terms with the knowledge that this epic trip is likely the last one he will ever take.
That sense of relating past experiences through one's present-day lens is one of the most remarkable aspects of this memoir. At one point, pausing in relating his travels in Bali, Buckbee imagines divers exploring his own wrecked body. One observes, "Wow, that was a lot of damage," to which another responds, "Yes, it was, and now there are all those other living creatures moving in and hiding inside him, living in a thing that no longer lives."
Buckbee's words are almost staggering in their resignation and the sadness behind them, but there's also no small measure of hope here. After all, he "needed to be rescued by…an injured, vulnerable animal who himself needed care, and through his need and nature could become a door-opener." Buckbee's world may look drastically different now than it did a decade ago --- on some days he might not even recognize himself --- but thanks to Two-Step, he can still encounter those door-opening moments of wonder and awe.
Reviewed by Norah Piehl
September 4, 2025
I really wanted to love this book, but if I’m being honest, I had a hard time with it. Brian’s love for his pigeons is beautiful, and something I wish more people had towards animals in general. There’s a lot we can learn from Brian, but this book left me wanting more (what happened between him and L.? What is his relationship like with his brother?) I also had a hard time turning off my own “mom” brain while reading and felt a deep compassion and concern for the author. He’s battling a severe illness virtually alone it seems (yes, the pigeons provide their own unique help but he does not seem to have many close friends). I felt in some ways the book was a cry for help. If I was his mother, I’d hope his older brother would offer to help more (maybe he does but the author does not provide details). He desperately needs a human to provide as much compassion for him as he shows to his pigeons. I deeply hope he can find that, as he deserves it!
Since we don’t know what happened between him and L., it’s hard to wrap my head around their relationship. I admire his dedication to his true love, but I also think it’s no longer healthy for him (and arguably L.) if she reads this book, I imagine she will have a hard time with it. It borderlines obsessive and almost makes me feel like he wants her to see he still loves her after many, many years? She may feel guilt or even fear that he’s held on this long and I don’t think it’s quite fair to her.
Finally, I found it a bit odd the editor included a picture of herself on the book jacket. Yes, he dictated this book, but it’s still his words. I was confused by this choice and wasn’t sure why she was enough of the story to be featured in the jacket.
I really hope Brian gets the compassionate love he deserves. As a mother myself, I’d be absolutely heartbroken if this was my son and I wish there was more I could do to help him. I hope he finds the love he needs.
Since we don’t know what happened between him and L., it’s hard to wrap my head around their relationship. I admire his dedication to his true love, but I also think it’s no longer healthy for him (and arguably L.) if she reads this book, I imagine she will have a hard time with it. It borderlines obsessive and almost makes me feel like he wants her to see he still loves her after many, many years? She may feel guilt or even fear that he’s held on this long and I don’t think it’s quite fair to her.
Finally, I found it a bit odd the editor included a picture of herself on the book jacket. Yes, he dictated this book, but it’s still his words. I was confused by this choice and wasn’t sure why she was enough of the story to be featured in the jacket.
I really hope Brian gets the compassionate love he deserves. As a mother myself, I’d be absolutely heartbroken if this was my son and I wish there was more I could do to help him. I hope he finds the love he needs.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 15, 2025
I'll start with the positives: I loved the author's connection to nature and animals. I was touched by the way he embraced the pigeon Two Step and created a home where he could recuperate. I also enjoyed the flashbacks of all of the travel adventures the author had. The descriptions of mountains, lakes, oceans, and other landscapes were gorgeous. The stories of his time in these beautiful places were amusing. The author sprinkled his anecdotes with smart, funny sidebars, which sometimes made me laugh out loud.
I wanted so badly to fall in love with this book. But despite all of the parts I loved, I felt that there was an underlying despair running through the narrative that was too heavy and depressing for me right now. Timing is everything and maybe this was not the best time for me to pick this one up.
The majority of the story is about the author's chronic fatigue syndrome and its devastating impact on his life. My heart broke for him as I reads one horrible experience after another. He also continually refers to his failed relationship with the woman he loves, whom he refers to as L. I felt like there was a lot more he could have said about that and it seemed too mysterious to be mentioning it so much without explaining the details of any part of the relationship.
I pray that the author continues to get better and that he's able to live a full and happy life.
I wanted so badly to fall in love with this book. But despite all of the parts I loved, I felt that there was an underlying despair running through the narrative that was too heavy and depressing for me right now. Timing is everything and maybe this was not the best time for me to pick this one up.
The majority of the story is about the author's chronic fatigue syndrome and its devastating impact on his life. My heart broke for him as I reads one horrible experience after another. He also continually refers to his failed relationship with the woman he loves, whom he refers to as L. I felt like there was a lot more he could have said about that and it seemed too mysterious to be mentioning it so much without explaining the details of any part of the relationship.
I pray that the author continues to get better and that he's able to live a full and happy life.
August 19, 2025
I’m pretty skeptical about memoirs, but when one came along that combined a chronic mystery illness, loneliness, and rescuing birds I had to check it out. And it turned out this memoir wasn’t self-aggrandizing, navel gazing, because Brian Buckbee didn’t write a book about himself or the frustration of having an invisible illness that no one understands except for the parts when he wrote about that. He didn’t write about mourning for the person he once was, though he mentioned that too. He didn’t write about the deep suffering and isolation of being in constant pain and alone during a global pandemic. Instead, he wrote about a bird who pulled him out from underneath the crushing weight of his circumstances. He wrote with honesty in a way that made me think, “Yeah, I’ve felt that way before.” Maybe it helps that I have an invisible, incurable illness that I hate or that I know the difference between the loneliness that can be savored and the loneliness that hurts or that I love and rescue birds who are “just birds" to other people. But, there is a deep truth for all of us in understanding that meaning is not something we find inside ourselves and purpose is out there waiting for us to make the connection. Brian Buckbee wrote a book about that. #weshouldallbebirds
February 20, 2025
Sometimes there are those rare books that cause the reader to put the book down when finished to contemplate one's life. This is one of those books. A memoir by an author that you've probably never heard of before, but that will change after this book is published. Author Brian Buckbee cowrote this with editor Carol Ann Fitzgerald as he was only able to narrate the words and she did the physical writing and editing. You see, Brian has a chronic health condition that's made his world smaller including an excruciating headache that he's had for over two years. The headache waxes and wanes but never fully goes away. There are numerous other ailments that causes him to visit specialist after specialist but readers will want to discover those as they read Brian's journey. Part of his journey is rescuing a young pigeon that he names Two-Step and taking care of another takes the focus off of Brian's physical pain. Readers will learn much about pigeons and birding and what they can offer humans.
A memoir about chronic illness, grief, love and companionship.
* I read an advance copy and was not compensated.
A memoir about chronic illness, grief, love and companionship.
* I read an advance copy and was not compensated.
April 13, 2025
During the pandemic my partner and I deepened our relationship with pets, nature, and gardening. It helped to fill the gaps created by limited social interactions and how we spent our time differently. There was also that underlying anxiety. This book reminds me of that.
After the worst of the pandemic I suffered a work injury from which I have not recovered. Part of it is the shortcomings of our insurance and healthcare systems in general. Part of it is the daily frustration of having so few answers to be able to restore your prior vigor, and also the inability to replace lost income. No complete diagnosis and a falling standard of living.
This book reminds me of that most of all. A story of mourning what will never be again that comes without warning. I am left feeling uneasy about the outcome for the author, but much more hopeful concerning the pigeons. In this story, misery doesn't love company. There's simply too much of it all around us if we only look behind doors.
After the worst of the pandemic I suffered a work injury from which I have not recovered. Part of it is the shortcomings of our insurance and healthcare systems in general. Part of it is the daily frustration of having so few answers to be able to restore your prior vigor, and also the inability to replace lost income. No complete diagnosis and a falling standard of living.
This book reminds me of that most of all. A story of mourning what will never be again that comes without warning. I am left feeling uneasy about the outcome for the author, but much more hopeful concerning the pigeons. In this story, misery doesn't love company. There's simply too much of it all around us if we only look behind doors.
August 3, 2025
Despite having read the description, I expected We Should all be Birds to be more about birds than about Brian. I did expect a lot about Brian based on the description but I still expected more about birds. It was in fact, more about Brian and his debilitating illness. I appreciate it his extreme care and compassion for the birds, his thoughtfulness, patience, and ingenuity. The story really is quite interesting but it also left a lot of unanswered questions. Whatever happened with Brian and L for instance. Due to Brian's illness, the story was dictated as opposed to being written. This perhaps explains why sometimes it felt a little herky jerky to me, like it was not flowing well and the ending felt somewhat abrupt. That's not to say I didn't enjoy the story. I found it fascinating both from the bird standpoint and the illness standpoint, I felt so much compassion for both. Overall I would give this 3.5 Stars.
August 5, 2025
. . . I am anchored to my couch, adrift, waiting for my life to come back to me.
The author suffers from Myalgic Encephalomyelitis/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, a serious, long-term illness that affects multiple body systems. In Brian's case, he has a headache all day, every day, with cognitive difficulties that make reading and writing impossible. (This book was dictated, which may account for its meandering, disjointed feel.)
Always an animal lover, one day Brian rescues a pigeon that has been hit by a car. And, now, he's got a reason to get up each day . . . whether he feels like it or not.
"For whatever reason, to this man, this pigeon is more than just a pigeon."
This is an interesting story of love, loss, introspection, and self-discovery. The ending seemed abrupt, perhaps because the story is not yet over.
Many thanks to Tin House for the physical ARC.
The author suffers from Myalgic Encephalomyelitis/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, a serious, long-term illness that affects multiple body systems. In Brian's case, he has a headache all day, every day, with cognitive difficulties that make reading and writing impossible. (This book was dictated, which may account for its meandering, disjointed feel.)
Always an animal lover, one day Brian rescues a pigeon that has been hit by a car. And, now, he's got a reason to get up each day . . . whether he feels like it or not.
"For whatever reason, to this man, this pigeon is more than just a pigeon."
This is an interesting story of love, loss, introspection, and self-discovery. The ending seemed abrupt, perhaps because the story is not yet over.
Many thanks to Tin House for the physical ARC.
July 5, 2025
3.5 stars
This is a well-written memoir by a broken man suffering from chronic intractable migraines, debilitating fatigue and heartbreak/loneliness. We follow him during the covid pandemic, when he adopts an injured pigeon named “Two Step”, who he develops a strong attachment to. This is not an action-packed book; it is more about what goes on in his head and the positive impact that living creatures can have on one another, notably when we are at our most vulnerable. For what it is, the book is surprisingly engaging. However, as a health care provider, I prefer not to hear about people’s symptoms when I am reading for pleasure. Presumably other readers will be less averse to such content. I was provided with an ARC (thanks to the author & publisher!) and I am voluntarily posting my honest review.
This is a well-written memoir by a broken man suffering from chronic intractable migraines, debilitating fatigue and heartbreak/loneliness. We follow him during the covid pandemic, when he adopts an injured pigeon named “Two Step”, who he develops a strong attachment to. This is not an action-packed book; it is more about what goes on in his head and the positive impact that living creatures can have on one another, notably when we are at our most vulnerable. For what it is, the book is surprisingly engaging. However, as a health care provider, I prefer not to hear about people’s symptoms when I am reading for pleasure. Presumably other readers will be less averse to such content. I was provided with an ARC (thanks to the author & publisher!) and I am voluntarily posting my honest review.
July 12, 2025
We Should All Be Birds is a well written, moving memoir that explores chronic illness, grief, love, and unexpected companionship.
Brian Buckbee's poignant memoir begins with a simple act of compassion: rescuing a baby pigeon. As I read this memoir, I discovered it to be about so much more than birds. It’s about survival, connection, and the unlikely paths that lead us back to life when we’re at our most lost.
If you’ve ever felt lost or unsure of your place in the world, this book is a gentle reminder that healing can begin in the most unexpected places and that sometimes, we all need to be birds.
I am glad to have won this book through a Goodreads giveaway. We Should All Be Birds is a gem on my bookshelf.
Brian Buckbee's poignant memoir begins with a simple act of compassion: rescuing a baby pigeon. As I read this memoir, I discovered it to be about so much more than birds. It’s about survival, connection, and the unlikely paths that lead us back to life when we’re at our most lost.
If you’ve ever felt lost or unsure of your place in the world, this book is a gentle reminder that healing can begin in the most unexpected places and that sometimes, we all need to be birds.
I am glad to have won this book through a Goodreads giveaway. We Should All Be Birds is a gem on my bookshelf.
August 10, 2025
This was a touching and, at times, heartbreaking and painful book to read. I could sympathize and relate with the author in a few key respects: I got my love of birds and nature from my mother, I suffered from regular severe headaches that were not diagnosed for many years, and I lived for a few years with a rescue pigeon in my house. But, you don’t have to have had these same experiences to appreciate the exquisite difficulty that the author must have experienced in writing (actually dictating) this memoir, the unimaginable physical pain he endures every moment of every day (except when asleep), and the emotional pain that stems from finding and then losing of the human love of his life.
August 11, 2025
This book is a beautiful story of heartbreak, loss, isolation, unlikely friendship, and the preservation of the ability to find meaning in life and experience the sublime in nature, as an individual transitions from the active life of a traveler and athlete to the quieter, more still life of a person with chronic illness.
Like a modern Whitman, Thoreau, or Emerson, Buckbee illuminates the magic of everyday experiences. He (with the immense help of co-author, Fitzgerald) delivers what could be a very sad story with a healthy dose of humor and self-deprecation that makes the reader feel like one of his good friends as they read and come to know him better.
Like a modern Whitman, Thoreau, or Emerson, Buckbee illuminates the magic of everyday experiences. He (with the immense help of co-author, Fitzgerald) delivers what could be a very sad story with a healthy dose of humor and self-deprecation that makes the reader feel like one of his good friends as they read and come to know him better.
September 9, 2025
This memoir shifts timelines from childhood to adulthood and before the illness to dealing with the illness. I appreciated the sections involving caring for birds and the developing relationship with the pigeon named Two-Step. Two-Step was the best part of the book for me. There is quite a bit of focus on a past relationship with a woman that is mentioned frequently but we never get the "what happened" to end the relationship. I understand, as the author mentions, that it is private. But it sure was talked about a lot. That distracted from his story about his life with the birds and dealing with illness; as it has done to his life.
July 9, 2025
Thank you to Tin House for the ARC.
This was not a easy book for me to read. I have suffered from migraines for decades and I can not fathom having one which is non-ending.
How Buckbee functions at all is difficult to understand. His unfortunate loss of his love and her son simply adds to his suffering. The fact that he finds a way to enjoy life through Two-Step is beyond remarkable. He has persevered to find some joy.
His sharing of his memoir gives us pause to think about animals, what they can mean to us and our obligation to take care of them
This was not a easy book for me to read. I have suffered from migraines for decades and I can not fathom having one which is non-ending.
How Buckbee functions at all is difficult to understand. His unfortunate loss of his love and her son simply adds to his suffering. The fact that he finds a way to enjoy life through Two-Step is beyond remarkable. He has persevered to find some joy.
His sharing of his memoir gives us pause to think about animals, what they can mean to us and our obligation to take care of them
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