Writing about the Allied invasion of Normandy, Garrett M. Graff is treading onto familiar history with his latest book.

From books by historian Stephen Ambrose to films like Steven Spielberg’s “Saving Private Ryan,” there are ample works chronicling the June 6, 1944, landing during World War II that ultimately led to the downfall of Nazi Germany.

But in “When the Sea Came Alive: An Oral History of D-Day,” Graff weaves together hundreds of eyewitness accounts to create a history that stands alongside those works, expanding readers’ understanding of D-Day and offering a new, complete portrait.

The oral history begins with a look at the planning of the operation, going back to 1943, and the buildup of personnel and equipment in the months leading up to the operation.

Graff uses a wide array and diversity of voices that give a fuller picture of the lead-up to the invasion, as well as the fighting. The book excels in highlighting the experiences of Black soldiers who landed on the beaches and women who were part of the story, such as correspondent Martha Gellhorn.

But it should come as no surprise that the most harrowing portions of the book remain the landing and the battles that occurred on D-Day itself, with vivid firsthand accounts. Graff’s skills at sifting through the accounts and documents propel the action throughout the book.

Graff’s book is a testimony to the value in preserving memories from grand historical events, demonstrating how much can be unearthed from even the most familiar stories. — Andrew DeMillo, Associated Press

Who means more to you — your friends or your lovers? In a vivid, thoughtful and nuanced collection of essays, Lilly Dancyger explores the powerful role that female friendships played in her chaotic upbringing marked by her parents’ heroin use and her father’s untimely death when she was 12 years old.

“First Love: Essays on Friendship” begins with a beautiful paean to her cousin Sabina, who was raped and killed at age 20 on her way home from a club. As little kids, their older relatives used to call them Snow White and Rose Red after the Grimms’ fairy tale, “two sisters who are not rivals or foils, but simply love each other.”

That simple, uncomplicated love would become the template for a series of subsequent relationships with girls and women that helped her survive her self- destructive adolescence and provided unconditional support as she scrambled to create a new identity as a “hypercompetent” writer, teacher and editor.

The collection stands out not just for its elegant, unadorned writing but also for the way she effortlessly pivots between personal history and spot- on cultural criticism that comments on and critiques the way that girls and women have been portrayed — and have portrayed themselves — in the media and on social media platforms.

For instance, she examines the 1994 Peter Jackson film “Heavenly Creatures,” based on the true story of two teenage girls who bludgeoned to death one of their mothers. And in the essay “Sad Girls,” about the suicide of a close friend, she analyzes the allure of self-destructive figures like Sylvia Plath and Janis Joplin to a certain type of teen, including herself, who wallows in sadness and wants to make sure “the world knew we were in pain.”

In the last essay, “On Murder Memoirs,” Dancyger considers the runaway popularity of true-crime stories as she tries to explain her decision not to attend the trial of the man charged with killing her cousin — even though she was trained as a journalist. “When I finally sat down to write about Sabina, the story that came out was not about murder at all,” she says. “It was a love story.”

Readers can be thankful that it did. — Ann Levin, Associated Press