100 Books Like A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

My search for meaning didn't come when I hit midlife. Ever since I was a kid, I gravitated toward books and movies that offered lessons about living, which I'd try to incorporate into admittedly limited childhood opportunities. As I grew older and gained more agency, I was able to apply what I learned to more significant decisions, which often led me down a very different path than my peers. I suppose, in hindsight, this accounts for why my first three books were released by a publisher in the personal transformation space. I'm happy to share the 5 books that have helped me on my journey toward living a better life...so far.

I believe that laughter is the best way into a person’s heart and also into their head. Life is beautiful, but it is also incredibly fragile. Satire and humor are effective ways to raise the level of awareness of destructive behaviors and/or controversial topics that are otherwise difficult or unpleasant to address. I think satire and humor make it easier to hold up a mirror and look critically at our own beliefs and our actions.  

I’ve been an avid reader since I was a child, and my favorite protagonists are readers and writers. The Kansas tallgrass prairie horizons where I grew up fueled my imagination, and I wanted to write like the girls in my novels. I discovered Anne of Green Gables as a teen, and since then, I’ve researched, published, and presented on the book as a quixotic novel. As a creative writer, my own characters are often readers, writers, librarians, book club members, and anyone who loves a good tale. I hope you enjoy the books on my list as much as I do each time I return to them.

Mark Rennella has given students and professionals helpful advice about writing throughout his career, most recently as a writing coach for MBA candidates at Harvard Business School. Mark earned a PhD in American history from Brandeis University and has taught literature and American history at Harvard University, the University of Miami, and the University of Tours (France). Mark's books, articles, business case studies, and collaborative writing endeavors have garnered him critical praise from historians, academicians, and business leaders alike. His concept of the “one-idea rule” was included among HBR.org’s ten favorite management tips for 2022 and was featured more recently in Forbes. He currently works as an editor for Harvard Business Publishing.

I’m a novelist, essayist, and journalist who’s written extensively about the problems and consolations of faith, about belonging in and out of faith, and about the tribes of what I think of as the In Between. When you’re in between, you’re neither in it nor out of it, whatever “it” might be for you. You bear an “infinity of traces,” as the writer Antonio Gramsci called these formative influences. My first novel looks at these influences directly, while my second one looks at them indirectly. I’m late in the game with a third novel now—a detective story that investigates a murder along with these same themes. 

I’m Deb Miller, a former Fortune 500 executive, marketing professor, and a woman who once believed in fairy tales—until life handed me a sword instead of a slipper. My memoir is all about rewriting the princess narrative and proving that modern-day warrior princesses don’t wait to be saved—they save themselves. I’ve spent my life balancing boardrooms and bedtime stories, raising three extraordinary children while fighting for my own happiness. I have a passion for stories that shatter outdated tropes and celebrate strong women who define their own happily ever afters.

I’ve spent a lifetime reading horror, I was probably in third grade when I stumbled across a battered collection of short stories by Saki in the adult section of the library—where I wasn’t supposed to be. I snuck the book back to the children’s section, started reading, and I was hooked. Then it was Edgar Allan Poe, and from Poe until now, it’s been every horror novel or short story I could find. The best of them have never left me. And they make up my list, The Most Terrifying Novels You Can’t Escape From.

I’m the child of immigrants and grew up imagining a second self—me, if my parents had never left India. Then, when I became a writer, doubles kept showing up in odd ways in my work. In my first play, House of Sacred Cows, I had identical twins played, farcically, by the same actor. My latest novel features two South Asian women: one, slightly wimpy, married to an unsympathetic guy called Mac, and another, in a permanent state of outrage, married to a nice man called Mat. My current project is a novel about mixed-race twins born in India but separated at birth.  

Anyone who’s attended high school knows it’s often survival of the fittest outside class and a sort of shadow-boxing inside of it. At my late-1970s prep school in the suburbs of Los Angeles, some days unfolded like a “Mad Max” meets “Dead Society” cage match. While everything changed when the school went coed in 1980, the scars would last into the next millennia for many. Mine did, and it’d thrust me on a journey not only into classic literature of the young-male archetype, but also historical figures who dared to challenge the Establishment for something bigger than themselves. I couldn’t have written my second novel, Later Days, without living what I wrote or eagerly reading the books below.

I started my academic life with two passions: listening to those I was researching and writing in ways that were accessible to all readers. I wasn’t willing to bow down to orthodoxies that would stifle my capacity to think and to write and make my way into new and emergent ideas and practices. Questions of ethics threaded their way through it all, not the kind of rule-based nonsense of university ethics committees, but ethics that enabled me to consider how matter matters and to re-think what we are in relation to each other and to the Earth.