100 Books Like A Little Princess

This is a slow-burn book. 

It is very sparse and meditative, with few fireworks that go off. It’s one of those books that when you finish, you don’t think, “What a great story!” Rather, it’s a “...wait, what just happened?”

Where The Alchemist frames purpose as something discovered and Tuesdays with Morrie offers wisdom at the end of life, Siddhartha finds meaning in the realization that every mistake, every heartache, and every detour was a necessary part of his transformation.

I reflected on this book for a while. I found that growth, for me, often comes not from choosing the right path but from finding peace through embracing life’s totality.

Anne Shirley is a perfectly imperfect heroine, and that’s why I love her. She’s creative and imaginative and gets so lost in her daydreams that she can forget the flour in a cake or to cover leftover pudding, leaving easy access for a peckish mouse. Her temper matches her red hair, and she refuses to let anyone insult her dignity. She dreams of meeting kindred spirits—those individuals you just click with.

Although I first discovered Anne as a teen, I’ve returned to her throughout my life, and at each stage, she’s there like an old friend. The best part of knowing Anne has been meeting kindred spirits from all around the globe who share their own stories of reading and loving Anne.  

Read it, bought it for all my friends, and read it again.

Glennon’s writing style is so disarmingly honest, raw, and powerful that it brought me to tears with its authenticity and relatability.

Full of personal stories about being a mother, being gay, leaving a marriage, recovering from addiction, unpacking religion, and being a sensitive human in a hard, messy world, Glennon weaves healing with radical permission in the most beautiful ways.

Poignant and timeless, this book was a sensation when it came out and still hits home with every turn of the page.

A favorite quote: “My emotions. My intuition. My imagination. My courage. Those are the keys to freedom. Those are who we are. Will we be brave enough to unlock ourselves? Will we be brave enough to set ourselves free? Will we finally step out of our cages and say to ourselves, to our people, and to… show more.

I love this book because it has so many layers that appeal to me: a historical period, the challenges of growing up, and a young woman who dreams of being a writer.

As an author, Jo March’s writing aspirations spoke to me, although I think I saw a bit of me in each of the four March sisters. That breadth is what welcomes me as a reader each time I return to the novel. And—no spoilers—I still sometimes scratch my head over the twist in the romance plot that didn’t go as I anticipated when I first read the book! 

I love this heart-felt story with the rough lesson about doing nothing when someone is bullied. Wanda Petronski is a new girl at school who wears the same faded, wrinkled dress every day. When she hears other girls discussing pretty dresses she whispers to the most popular girl that she has one hundred dresses at home. This begins the constant teasing and questioning all about her dresses. One day Wanda does not show up at school and the classmates receive a letter from her father saying that they’ve moved where there are others with funny names like theirs. The one hundred dresses Wanda had drawn at home are then shared for the art contest. It is too late to apologize and the narrator decides she will never again stand by and do nothing.

I immediately fell in love with Cassie Logan, the spunky, resourceful main character in this classic novel. But by the end of the book, I had as much affection for her courageous mother, Mrs. Logan, a teacher who, in depression-era Mississippi, runs a school for African-American kids.

Among her pupils are some her own children, which I know from personal experience can be complicated. Of all the powerful themes in this book, an important, but often overlooked one is the power of teachers and schools to build community and respect for self and others.

Readers should know this book, written by a Black woman based on her childhood experiences, uses strong racial epithets, and young readers could benefit from thoughtful discussion with an adult.

Also a YA/Teen historical fantasy story with magic. It reminds me of a little Harry Potter in girl version that I like. It is entertaining and refreshing. The 14-year-old Sarah Smith has a secret. That she's not a member of Guardians the noble magical class that now rules the world. But as one of the non-magical Snipes who possesses magic, her secret must be kept so that she—and her family—can survive. So she has to blend in with the magical class. And attend school for wealthy magical ladies.

Anne is one of the most lovable female characters in the whole literature. When I read about her I feel like I’m her good friend and I’m excited about her along with the story. Anne is now 16 years old and she begins her job as the new schoolteacher in this book. It was a great continuation of her story and I love seeing Anne starts to become an adult while still keeping her positive personality. And I really appreciate the very special romantic storyline too. Anne always stays Anne, a great girl.

I can’t forget my very talented compatriot, Magda Szabó’s great writing. I am very proud of her and her success. It was hard work and lasted a lifetime for her to reach as Hungarian her books became popular worldwide. I hope one day I can follow her… This book is set in a religious school in the middle of World War II. The protagonist is young Gina, the daughter of a Hungarian General. The novel analyzes important social problems, teenager problems. At first, Gina is an outcast then we can see how she tries to fit in the class, and she makes friends. Friendship and togetherness are in the spotlight in this novel.

For years, I refused to re-embrace Holden Caulfield, because Mark David Chapman, John Lennon’s assassin, declared it inspired him to bloodshed. I’m glad I did, getting the juices circulating for my novel.

Holden, manic-depressed over his brother’s death, cut loose from his prep school, may speak in a stream-of-consciousness babble, but he enunciated an old-soul contempt of Ivy-League elitism that reverberates today.

When Holden declares, “The more expensive a school, the more crooks it has,” it’s a literary MRI on American classism still tearing us asunder.