13 books like Dear Martin

All my life, I’ve struggled with accepting who I am. It’s no secret that the Vietnam War was unpopular in America; as such, I spent my adolescence hiding who I was. Literature like this didn’t exist when I was a kid. If it had, I think I would’ve seen myself differently. As a writer, I explore similar themes in my work and highlight the importance of discussing how our childhood experiences (good and bad) shape us. Uniformity is a destroyer of identity; my mission is to show how loving what makes us different allows us to love the differences we see in others.

As a youngster growing up in the segregated South, I didn’t have access to books about Black history, culture, and experiences. Although I attended all-Black schools, the curriculum and the books in our libraries were mostly selected by an all-White school board. So, I didn’t know that much about the history of my own people. I would not begin to learn that until I attended college. When I married and had children of my own, my wife and I still had problems finding a variety of books for children and young readers for our own children to read. So, we started our own publishing company to address the need for these books.

Visceral, transformative books have the capacity to improve lives. I am impassioned about books of oppression because of their ability to lend a voice to unspeakable, excruciating accounts of subjugation. Voices that might’ve otherwise went unheard or not as deeply understood as within the integral pages of a book to readers. Therefore, I believe it's important to recommend life-changing books to the youth to inform them of world oppression. As they, themselves, enter into responsibility and power. Whether it’s through brilliant, allegorical fiction or pivotal nonfiction, we can educate the future of humanity itself. Together, we can all foster a better world.

As long as I can remember, I wrote letters. I still have an ongoing stamp to envelope relationship with a bud I met in Australia in the 80s. Sending postcards also became a thing for me, too. As a reader and writer, I love tight, intimate, highly personal narratives where the characters aren’t on paper but in your head. I’ve been a social worker for more than thirty years, so emotional vulnerability is my jam. I gravitate towards quick, easily digestible lengths of many epistolary forms, whether written in a diary, letter, journal, email, text, video, or combinations. The protagonist in my latest novel, Letters From Johnny, writes to legendary Toronto Maple Leafs Captain - Dave Keon - to work out his feelings.

I have been an enthusiast of aviation, space, and science fiction since I was a child. I graduated in aerospace engineering while the Apollo missions reached the Moon, but then in the post-Apollo days, I worked mostly in the mechanical engineering field. In the 1990s, as a professor of machine design, I could return to aerospace. Later, as a member of the International Academy of Astronautics, I led a study group on human Mars exploration and wrote some research books in this field and a few science fiction novels. I have always been fascinated by the idea that humans can become a multi-planetary species, returning to the Moon and going beyond.

Coming of age in the '70s, I set out to prove that I could do anything men could do as if it were my duty as a woman. This led me to become an exploration geologist, jumping out of helicopters in grizzly bear country. But I had a nagging feeling that I was neglecting what was meaningful to me. I struggled to even know what that was. My next career as a story analyst led me deep into the world of Joseph Campbell and Carl Jung and a fascinating exploration of how people find their best life. And I’m still enthusiastically exploring.

As a youngster growing up in the segregated South, I didn’t have access to books about Black history, culture, and experiences. Although I attended all-Black schools, the curriculum and the books in our libraries were mostly selected by an all-White school board. So, I didn’t know that much about the history of my own people. I would not begin to learn that until I attended college. When I married and had children of my own, my wife and I still had problems finding a variety of books for children and young readers for our own children to read. So, we started our own publishing company to address the need for these books.

I’ve been a science fiction fan for as long as I can remember. As someone who never quite felt like I fit in, these stories became a kind of refuge and revelation for me. They taught me that being on the outside looking in can be its own kind of superpower—the ability to see the world differently, to question it, and to imagine something better. I’m drawn to characters who are flawed, searching, and human, because they remind me that courage and belonging are choices we make, not gifts we’re given. That’s the heart of every story I love and the kind I try to write.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve yearned to be part of a BFF-ship, like Anne Shirley-Cuthbert searching for her Diana Barry or Nancy Drew seeking her crewmates Bess and George. As I grew, I realized what I really wanted was to be part of something bigger than myself, working toward a common goal and solving problems bravely and creatively. In any given role, I’ve sought to find the best possible team for the job. Now that I’m a full-time creator, I’ve continued to prioritize people and collaborative practice over any given outcome. Sometimes, we win, sometimes we learn. But the important thing is that we try/learn together.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve yearned to be part of a BFF-ship, like Anne Shirley-Cuthbert searching for her Diana Barry or Nancy Drew seeking her crewmates Bess and George. As I grew, I realized what I really wanted was to be part of something bigger than myself, working toward a common goal and solving problems bravely and creatively. In any given role, I’ve sought to find the best possible team for the job. Now that I’m a full-time creator, I’ve continued to prioritize people and collaborative practice over any given outcome. Sometimes, we win, sometimes we learn. But the important thing is that we try/learn together.