Books like Adventures of Tom Sawyer — picked by fans

This is the first book I ever read by a Latina author. I was nineteen years old and a student at a small private liberal arts college in Connecticut. My professor assigned it to my American Literature class. I thought she’d made a mistake because some of the words in the book were in Spanish. I didn’t know you could do that—write in English but have some words in Spanish peppered throughout the dialogue and text. I was stunned.

I remember reading about Esperanza and her experiences in her Mexican neighborhood in Chicago, meeting characters on Mango Street, and falling in love with both the story and Cisneros’ playful, vulnerable, poetic writing style. After reading this book, I knew I also wanted to be a writer.

When it comes to family sagas turned myth, it’s hard to top Calliope Stephanides tracing the passage of the hermaphroditic gene—transforming Callie into Cal—through three generations of the Greek-American Stephanides family.

An epic origin story that moves from Asia Minor to Detroit, Michigan, complete with incest and a nuanced exploration of gender identity. It also has one of my all-time favorite novel openings ever. “Sing now, O Muse, of the recessive mutation on my fifth chromosome!”

This is one of those books I am in awe of. Deeply immersive, I had to be pried away from this story once I began. The writing is spectacular and an absolute masterclass on writing chemistry between characters and writing young love.

This book falls on nearly any top-five list of mine. It is truly stunning and heartbreaking in turn. (Sorry, this isn’t a very light list, is it??) But to me, what makes love stories powerful is all the ways that love can be lost, the truth that love can be fleeting, impossible to hold onto forever, even if you have spent a lifetime with the one you love, at some point we all have to say goodbye. This is what makes love so beautiful.

This book gets inside the mind of a 12-year-old as she tries to figure out where she belongs within the family structure. She believes that if she can only go off on the honeymoon with her brother and his new wife everything will then fit. Obviously, that is not going to be the resolution.

This book took me back to the age of 12, and I realized what thinkers 12-year-olds can be and that this is an age of starting to find our identity, to find the authentic Me. There is a curiosity, tenacity, and energy that goes into this kind of search.

I felt so seen in this story. Elizabeth Acevedo paints a spectacular character (Xiomara) who is caught between worlds—the “old” world of her parents and their strict traditions and the “new” world where she can perform spoken word poetry on stage.

I laughed and cried as I read this book, which was told in verse, especially regarding Xiomara’s relationship with her mother. I could relate so much to Xiomara and the arguments she got into with her mother. I was reminded of my own adolescence and the many fights I had with my mom. It’s all good now, but wow. We used to really get into it during those rocky years.

This is a book about my life—growing up in the middle of the twentieth century. Bobby Soxers, juvenile delinquents, popular music, MTV, Freedom Riders, Anti-War protestors…it’s all here, along with much more. It isn’t about the good old days; this book takes us to the heart of the culture created decades ago and still influencing us today. We knew teenage life was complex and this book reveals just why that is the case. You’ll wish it came with a playlist.

In this book, the late Peter Benson, argues that by the teenage years, with help every young person can identify their unique strength - the thing they are naturally good at and would do anyway if left to their own devices. He argues this doesn’t have to be academic. It can be things like the ability to listen, a commitment to animal welfare, a passion for the environment, anything in the creative arts, or caring for others. He discussed how every single young person can be helped to identify their ‘spark.’ I often cite Benson’s concept of ‘spark’ in my own books because it does so much to help young people feel better about themselves, find their life purpose and undo the damage our grades-obsessed, one-size-fits-all education system does to the self-worth of so many.

I read Fagell’s first book, Middle School Matters, before my oldest child started middle school and this one, Middle School Superpowers, the summer before my middle child started middle school and found both eased the rocky transition.

I felt so reassured by this book that middle school years do not have to actually be the worst, and my kids this age are capable of pretty amazing things. When I opened my eyes to that possibility, instead of dreading the doom-and-gloom stereotypes, I could see my own kids’ strengths and superpowers.

Reading this also reminded me that when they falter it’s part of normal growing up and not because I messed up. 

On the surface, this is a coming-of-age story with a protagonist similar to many others in the genre—bright, witty, snobbish, and pissed off at almost everybody he meets. But what makes this book so good is the narrator’s intelligence and self-awareness, and the complexity of all the characters and their relationships. 

My own upbringing was a far cry from the wealthy, highly-cultured world depicted here—I grew up in a tiny town in southern Iowa, and though there was a college in town I had little access to culture—yet I could completely relate to the gay narrator’s fish-out-of-water feeling and his desire to be understood. I also loved his close relationship with his grandmother, since my grandmother was equally important to me.    

I was utterly spellbound by this book, seduced by its atmosphere of excruciating dread. Its precocious teenage protagonist, Nathalie Waite, is a poster girl for the power of denial. She responds to a horrifying experience at a garden party by retreating into the safety of her own bizarre imagination. Her determination to reinvent herself is a clear product not only of the trauma that she has endured but also of her fear of enduring it again.

Terse, grim, and inscrutable, this novel is Jackson at her opaque best.