Called a “beautifully wrought work” by Kirkus, Javier Zamora’s memoir, Solito (Random House Audio, 17 hours and 8 minutes), follows his harrowing journey as a timid 9-year-old from El Salvador through Guatemala and Mexico to a new life in the United States, where his parents had already immigrated. The trip—by bus, by boat, and on foot through the deadly Sonoran Desert—is undertaken via a coyote known to his family, but when the man disappears, Javier is left to travel with strangers.

Zamora, a poet, narrates his audiobook, and his deliberately slow, careful reading echoes the uncertainty of the child he once was. It’s almost as though the adult Zamora is setting out on this journey all over again—and in a way, he is. He uses Spanish throughout the book, and much of what he says is repetitive, serving to remind the reader that this journey isn’t only frightening, but often dull, especially for a child too young to fathom the worst that could happen.

Zamora reflects his younger self’s shifting emotions, from embarrassment to wonder, as his travels become more dangerous. This is a book written and read by someone who understands the peril and beauty in relying on the kindness of strangers.

Jennette McCurdy’s provocatively titled memoir exists in a different world, but she too narrates a rocky journey with candor and heart. In I’m Glad My Mom Died (Simon & Schuster Audio, 6 hours and 26 minutes), the star of Nickelodeon’s iCarly examines her swift rise to child-star fame and her troubled relationship with her domineering mother, Debra, who pushed her daughter into acting, manipulated her emotions, and drove her to eating disorders, addictions, and toxic relationships.

McCurdy keeps her stories short: Her family belongs to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints but is not particularly devout; money problems pile up; and everyone must bend to the whims of Debra McCurdy, even if it means Jennette must shower with her mother until she’s 16.

Kirkus calls the memoir “heartbreaking,” and in many ways it is, but McCurdy displays a surprising dark sense of humor in both the writing and reading of this book, a sign that her healing has begun.

You might think hearing Elizabeth McCracken read her latest book would help clarify its provenance. Is The Hero of This Book (HarperAudio, 4 hours and 33 minutes) truly a novel? Or is it more of a memoir?

The story, in which an unnamed writer wanders through London remembering her recently deceased mother, feels autobiographical, but McCracken is quick to assure us she loathes memoirs and wouldn’t write one. (She’s toying with us here; she once wrote a memoir, and it was wonderful). Her voice work is more complex than you may realize on first listen, her narration taking on a wry, almost neutral tone that belies the frustration, guilt, love, and admiration this character has for her mercurial mother. She’s able to draw us close with a shattering intimacy, then push us back to arm’s length with a dry aside, reminding us that this is fiction.

However you choose to define this book, listening to it is a bracing experience. In the words of the Kirkus reviewer, it’s an “homage to the art of great storytelling.”

Connie Ogle is a writer in Florida.