100 Books Like A Good Enough Mother

This book didn’t start out in the usual way. That in itself grabbed my attention. It’s a thriller, so I expect the first paragraph at least to pull me in. It didn’t grab me the way most do; it slowly sucked me in until I found myself not wanting to put it down.

The two main characters seemed to be at odds. One wanting to help and one refusing to speak. I don’t understand not trying to find answers that keep me silent. It must be the curiosity that kept me reading. Because the woman could speak. At least she could at one time. Either it was something traumatic, or it was just plain stubbornness. Or was I missing the entire point? Always an option. 

This book features a child psychologist who is our unreliable narrator, and we are straight into her life with no introduction. We are in her head from the outset, witness to all her internal dialogue, her drunken episodes, and the minutiae of her claustrophobic lifestyle; her only entertainment spying on her neighbors as she now  lives apart from her husband and child for unknown reasons.

The narrowness of her agoraphobic life is well depicted, and I was keen to discover what events had led her from a successful career and happy family to this depressed and depressing way of life.

This novel features a character who is a psychologist, and as it is written by a therapist, this was the initial attraction for me. But be warned, the story touches on a number of serious issues, so it may not be for everyone.

In 2003, something dark happened that binds some school friends to keep the ‘guilty secret’ of the title, and this drew me into the story as I wanted to work out exactly what had happened. I enjoyed the dual timelines, weaving events from 2003 and 2019 until we finally find out how they relate to each other and learn the nature of the secret. Good holiday reading.

The opening of the book hooked me as it was written from the perspective of a psychotherapist and was very true to life. However, there were other sections written from the therapist’s perspective which seemed a bit ‘off’. This puzzled me as the author clearly understood the therapeutic relationship. But eventually, it became clear why these excerpts bore little relationship to my own training and the behavior of the psychotherapists I know! You will have to read the book to find out.

This novel has creepy elements as the couple begin to feel watched in their new home, a frightening situation that is easy to imagine. The tension ratchets up when the protagonist discovers that the previous owner – a therapist called Nina – had been murdered there. And her husband had known all along but not told her.

I found this book to be a good holiday read. 

Talk about a complicated mother-daughter relationship! Almost as soon as her daughter is born, Blythe suspects something is…off. And no kidding, is it ever? This book takes the idea of not being able to connect with your kid to a whole other, really terrifying level.

What I particularly love about this book is how much it challenges the idea of who is in charge in the mother-daughter relationship, and what it means if your kid is really, truly, bad. This book actually made me gasp. The title refers to the central incident of the book, but I like it because the book also pushes against all kinds of societal norms. 

Internal Family Systems Therapy by Richard Schwartz taught me a new way to think about the mind and complemented perfectly what I learned in The Transforming Power of Affect. So much of what causes human suffering has to do with conscious and unconscious conflicts. When we learn that our minds consist of various “parts” that can hold differing realities, memories, emotions, sensations, and more, it is so helpful for self-understanding and self-compassion. For me, I stopped trying to reconcile irreconciled aspects of myself and instead set out to learn about the different parts of myself. This further helped me integrate myself for greater well-being.

It is easy especially when young to assume that families are somewhat neutral or generally nurturing. We make our own way through the world and our background is only of some relevance. Oliver James shows how the environment in which we emerge affects every aspect of how we live. But while this is both a self-help book and psychological treatise, James also provides amazing case studies from the celebrity world, including a detailed and uncompromising analysis of how the royal family ended up being so cold-hearted.

This story is set in Việt Nam and paints a clear picture of the people who lived there in the 1930-1980 timeframe of the story. The family faced hardships and tragedies, including being separated for several months when they were forced to flee for their lives. One thing I really appreciated was seeing the impact and impressions of the Việt Nam war on the people of that country. My brother fought over there—he was a Ranger in the Army—during that conflict and came home very different. In fact, he’s estranged himself from the family for the past 30+ years. Reading about the conflict from the other side gives me a clearer idea of what he might have seen or done that he never would tell me about.

“Moments of great import are often tinged with darkness because perversely we yearn to be let down,” starts Courtney Maum’s 2014 debut novel. A whole decade after its release, it is still one of my favorite first lines. Maum’s book, which is set in London and Paris, follows an artist in his mid-thirties whose wife has found out about his affair just as his career begins to take off.

While he tries to win back her affection and find where it went in the first place, his journey brings up many questions (and, sometimes, answers) about life and love. It’s a slightly different approach to your run-of-the-mill literary dalliance, which is one of many reasons it resonated so much with readers at the time of its release in 2014. It is not just a story about infidelity and its consequences; it’s an exploration of what it means to love someone… show more.

One of my favorite things about this book is how Chung effortlessly weaves the human experience with the magical, braiding in Korean folklore and science as she goes. The women in these stories are feeling their way through their worlds, both everyday and fantastical, stumbling through love, family, duty, loss, and talking dolls.

Chung’s stories are infused with an emotional numbness that feels so familiar to me, a shadow side I recognize in myself, too. This only made my heart break harder when each story ended, exposing all the different bones of womanhood. I always have that sense of Yes, that’s just it when I read her writing.