83 Books Like All the Noise at Once

This book uses the fantastic metaphor of an “upside-down” bat in a world of mammals.

At school, everything she does is perceived as “wrong” because it is different from the world of her classmates and instructor. But Bitsy learns to find joy in her differences and takes initiative to celebrate the strengths of not just herself but her classmates.

This picture book is a great way to introduce readers, young and old, to being neurodivergent in a neurotypical world, as well as how to welcome neurodivergent folks and create a neurodivergent-inclusive space.

This book is particularly compelling in how it portrays the intersection of abuse and neurodivergence.

Maudie’s abuse makes her prone to doubt herself and her place in the world. She sees herself as “a girl with glitches” and has to learn to not mold herself for others but find confidence and joy in her own unique wiring.

This book also does a great job of portraying a nuanced portrayal of the ramifications and trauma of ABA therapy and Autism Mom culture, which we need more of in the media.

Maya, like all of us, is messy. She can be overconfident, inflexible, and unfair to her friends. But she’s also passionate, hardworking, and struggling to cope in a world not built for her.

To some readers, Maya might just seem annoying and selfish—but this is oversimplifying. As an autistic person, I can absolutely see myself in Maya’s black and white thinking, her hurt over things not going as planned, and her struggles to “play the part” as Maya in Public, and to mask.

“Maya in Public” and other stage metaphors show how an autistic person uses their special interests to make sense of the world, and may help allistic readers better understand what it’s like to be autistic. I loved seeing Maya grow and try new things, even if it was uncomfortable, as well as apologize for her mistakes and learn from them.

Maya is a very honest reflection of… show more.

This is a speculative novel, asking readers: how might we use technology to replicate loved ones before they pass, so in a way, no one ever has to die? How would we want to remember them? How do we process and avoid grief through technology? And how might technology with an ableist focus create an erasure of neurodivergence?

The novel gives this speculative backdrop but focuses on authentic interactions and a beautiful relationship between the autistic protagonist Cora and her ADHD friend Adrien. The way Cora and Adrien express the pressure a neurotypical society imposes on neurodivergent people is resonant and nuanced. It also does a great job of showing the similarities and differences between autism and ADHD in a compelling way.

The voice of this novel-in-verse brought me so much delight I could play it repeatedly like a song. Every page popped, sizzled, and sang in my brain like a B-ball in the hand of Michael Jordan on a basketball court.

I felt the emotions of the main character, Josh, deeply. His love for his brother, confidence at school despite inward insecurity, fear of losing a loved one, and love of the game shone through on every page. 

I fell in love with these two brothers, Link and Hud, but I couldn’t help asking myself what I would do if I were one of their long line of failed babysitters. Their energy and hi-jinks would challenge anyone. At the same time those same characteristics make Link and Hud loveable and memorable. Never underestimate the creativity and intelligence of a child.

I hope all kids will embrace their imaginations and childhood years to have grand adventures. I loved the mix of comic book storytelling inserted within passages of text. 

King thinks his deceased brother has returned as a dragonfly and visits him in the bayou area where he hangs out. I love books with hints of magic in them, especially when they show up in nature, and I couldn’t help but root for King. Even as he struggles, he is sweet and empathetic and worries about others as much as he worries about himself.

Friends and family are fully developed; nobody is all good or all bad. The teacher in me appreciates King’s story as a great discussion starter and empathy-builder, as well as an engaging plot. Witnessing the triumph of an underdog never gets old for me.

This first-in-series thriller revved my engine with its fun combination of action and romance. New Yorker Ryan West is an expert in personal protection who runs his own security firm. But he wasn’t prepared for the personal fall-out from falling for the tough-minded hotel boss he’s hired to guard. She’s brainy and resourceful, the kind of modern-day princess who can save herself but doesn’t mind engaging with a dashing prince of a private eye.

I love Dough Boys because it’s an engrossing, authentic story about basketball, music, friendship, and the hard decisions thirteen-year-old kids sometimes have to make. It follows Rollie and Simp, best friends who play on an elite basketball team in their low-income neighborhood...but playing on the team means getting involved as lookouts for a local drug ring, and the boys have very different feelings about the pressures and responsibilities they face. Basketball scenes provide an entryway into important topics, and through the two well-developed protagonists, Chase explores what happens when a sport feels like your only chance at the future you want, and what happens when you’re no longer sure you love a game that used to be part of your identity.

Reading Shotgun Lovesongs years ago is my first adult memory of seeing myself on the page—the kind of thing that probably happens more frequently if you’re from New York or L.A. but isn’t as common for those of us born and raised in so-called flyover states.

I fell hard for Nickolas Butler’s debut—the story of four boyhood friends in a small Wisconsin town, one of whom becomes a famous rock star—from the first chapter. While it became an international bestseller for its universally appealing story, hooky concept, and lyrical prose (not to mention its rumored, real-life inspiration),

I personally was drawn to the intimate portrayal of life-long, small-town friendships, the precise push-pull of life in a fishbowl; the loyalty we feel for each other that isn’t always earned; and the way we tether ourselves to people and place, for better or for worse.