99 Books Like All the Broken Places

After some challenges with reading the dialect, I became so intrigued by this heart-wrenching story of two teenage girls, one Trinidadian and one African-American, who come together unexpectedly in cold Minneapolis. I loved learning about their cultures, and I loved how they grew close despite their differences and supported each other through the crises of lost family and childhood cancer.

The language and pace beguiled me as a reader. The girls' viewpoints of their past and present worlds were engaging. I felt the heroism in each of them, one facing death, one trying to reunite with her family.

Olive is not a likable character, yet so many readers related to her in the first book, as I did. Strout took a completely different approach in this sequel, which appealed to me even more. We see the larger community in Olive’s life, looking at her through her interactions with friends, neighbors, and a lover who becomes her second husband.

Strout weaves present and past using these different perspectives, showing the rare kindnesses that Olive allows herself. By the end, she was a hero to me because of her changes as a person—the increased compassion tempered her frankness.  A brilliant and realistic exploration of aging, illness, and death.  

I love when stories tease out backstory in little bits, and this book does that wonderfully.

Right from the opening chapters, seeds of intrigue are sprinkled everywhere, and I had so many questions that I needed answers to. It’s the kind of opening where it seems that life is going well for the character, yet there is something amiss.

And then the metaphorical rug was pulled out from under me, and I had to stay up well past my bedtime because I just needed to know more.

In this story, we’re in Georgia, deep in its geology, which for me wouldn’t be a draw for a novel, but Eager presents this landscape through the unforgettable character of Doreen, who struggles with poverty, her role as a woman in Southern culture, her inadequacies as a parent yet emerges as a real hero in her own life and others. 

What I took away was a new view on female pride, a woman’s honor, and what limits an aware person puts on her self-sacrifice. The characters are not all that likable, with the exception of Doreen, yet I was completely engaged in the story. The way the author weaves in the geology, what remains in the earth’s memory, and what remains in human memory was brilliant.  

There such an intimate sense of discovery in this novel, narrated by Linda, a teenage girl taken under the wing of a strange family.

Linda guides us through this natural world, the cold woods of Minnesota, both mysterious and beautiful. Her simple descriptions of place always build on a subtle sense of dread in her voice, “The sky between the branches looked like sunburn. It was twenty minutes through the snow and sumac before the dogs heard me and started braying against their chains.”

Linda’s is a vulnerable first-person voice, not in command of her world, but constantly open to its possibilities, for better or worse. As authentic as it gets.  

This charming parallel universe story is like two contemporary realistic novels in one. Fifteen-year-old Summer Everette makes a choice at the beginning of the book (no spoilers, here!) that will either take her to France or keep her in upstate New York for the summer. So why not see what would happen in both worlds?

This book has all the elements I love. A relatable protagonist, two adorable love interests, and tons of heart. Add the French countryside element and voila! Parfait!

Daniel always writes entertaining books that compel me to turn the pages quickly.

I love a good creepy neighbour story and this one fits the bill – especially when the family moves into a new house and bizarre things start to happen.

This is such a fun, twisty read and although I guessed a few of the twists, I was happy to go along for the rollercoaster ride.

I can honestly say that I felt a tingle of happiness after reading this book. I’m attracted to stories with different points of view. In this case, an 8-year-old girl has become fixated on the disappearance of her 16-year-old sister, who she was very close to.

I was fascinated by this child’s maturity while surrounded by her parents, a neighbour and the police. It was apparent that the dysfunction between the mother and the teenage daughter made her leave for good. I got wrapped up in the little sister’s world of worry and responsibility while receiving little comfort from her mother.

This book was unputdownable, as they say. I had to know what would happen next.

This is one of those books that’s hard to talk about without giving too much away because the magic is in the twists and turns. At a certain point in reading, I closed the book, letting out a little “oh no” because I’d just realized what was coming, and I was both dreading it happening and couldn’t turn the pages fast enough to get to that scene.

This is very much a car crash-in-slow-motion story. I hated the antagonist. I also knew I probably would have been drawn in by her charisma if I’d met her in real life–beautiful malice is the perfect term to describe her. This book was one that I felt physically, carrying it around for several days afterward as I relived moments in my head.

This is a darker, more realistic take on former child stars.

I don’t normally enjoy non-linear timelines, but the way the story jumped back and forth, from the heyday of the TV show, where the characters played in a fictional teen pop band to present day, where they are trying to pretend they’ve moved on from the scandalous ending, was compelling.

The central mystery of what went wrong and why kept me hooked while the details of the behind-the-scenes conflicts and pressures fascinated me. As someone who grew up in LA, close to the orbit of these kind of wildly popular teen shows, I appreciated the stark look at what these productions do to their young stars and the sometimes creepy attention underage girls get.

I also appreciated that it didn’t get so dark I couldn’t finish it.