This one gutted me in the best and worst ways. Burnt is a memoir that lives it on the page and Clare Frank writes with the kind of raw clarity that pulls you straight into the fire with her. It’s visceral, emotional, and absolutely unforgettable.

Frank’s journey through a career in firefighting is told with humility and grit. There’s no sugar-coating here, no polished hero arc. Instead, we get a deeply human, fiercely honest look at the triumphs, trauma, exhaustion, and quiet victories that come with stepping into a career so physically and emotionally intense. She lays it all out, from battling raging infernos to fighting for her place as a woman in a male-dominated field, every part of her experience feels immediate and alive.

What struck me the most was the way Frank manages to make space for both strength and vulnerability. She tells her story with compassion and insight, never leaning too far into bravado or self-pity. The memoir reads like a conversation with someone who has truly lived and seen things most of us never will, and come out the other side changed, but not broken.

She doesn’t just recount events— she invites you into her internal world. The fear, the adrenaline, the grief, the purpose is all here, laid bare with a kind of unflinching tenderness. I found myself tearing up more than once, not just from the pain in her stories, but from the way she tells them with power and grace (but never self-congratulation). She earns your respect without asking for it.

This book is a testament to resilience, to public service, and to the complexity of balancing duty with humanity. It’s a love letter to fire… but also to family, to perseverance, and to self-discovery.

This is a 5/5 for me. Phenomenal, inspiring, and deeply necessary.