100 Books Like Child of My Heart

As someone who considers her brother her creative muse, I would describe this novel as one interested in siblings.

Between Leonie and Given, and Jojo and Kayla is an indescribable, utterly unique bond, held within and beyond both family and friendship. 

I was utterly consumed by this heartbreaking novel. From the opening scene where Pop and Jojo kill and skin a goat, to the heat in Leonie’s car and the scene of Jojo’s police cuffing, Ward delivers a pace, language, and viscerality that means you can’t look away. 

Somewhat surprisingly, I was even compelled by the book’s ghostly elements. I found they enhanced the magnitude of the characters’ burdens, especially for thirteen-year-old Jojo, who already shoulders so much.

I highly recommend this book, as a pleasure and as a duty to your fellow human beings. 

Wow. The voice in this book takes my breath away. I’ve never read anything else quite like it.

There’s a plot full of adventure, tragedy, and healing, but mostly, there is Rueben Land and his sister Swede, two of the most compelling characters in literature. The story begins with a miracle when Rueben’s father commands his newly stillborn son to breathe.

Questions about miracles, hope, faith, and redemption pepper the story with no easy answers, again asking: What does it mean to be human? That’s a question all great literature grapples with.

I was once in line to get a book signed by Elizabeth Strout, and the minute I opened my mouth to greet her, I burst into tears. That’s how much I loved this book.

I loved Amy, the mother, and how hard she was trying to parent her teenage daughter, Isabelle. And Isabelle, who is trying to figure out her place in the world ends up having an affair with her teacher. But what I love the most is how much I felt bad for both Isabelle, who is trying to sort out her feelings for her teacher and herself, and Amy, who is furious at her daughter, the teacher, and herself.

Strout is so good at these kinds of perfectly imperfect relationships, these people who love and hurt each other. I read this book at least a decade ago and I still feel the sadness and tenderness of it… show more.

Ah, these juvenile narrators: they think they know it all. Lucille Odem has it all figured out. She can fix her broken family and heal her parent’s broken hearts—because of course she can. For me, the pleasure of a great young adult narrator is watching as even the smartest of these smarty pants comes to learn that we all have blind spots and that it’s often the things we can’t see or don’t know that are the most important part of the equation. What a sweet book this is.  

Steinbeck is one of my favorite novelists (Willa Cather, the other) but boy did he run off the rails with this, his final book.

He describes an American society locked in irreversible decline, with everything getting worse and our polity doomed. Sixty years later the United States remains the envy of the world and almost every America today lives better materially, with more freedom and security, than almost everyone of 1961.

The novel is a reminder of the extent to which ideological negativity is ubiquitous in literature.

We both devoured Taffy Brodesser-Akner’s last book, Fleishman Is in Trouble, and the wonderful TV adaptation of the same name. So, when we saw that she was writing another one, we both not only hit the preorder button but reached out to her publisher to get advanced reader copies. The book doesn’t come out until July 9. Still, we’ve both already read it and can confidently say it’s a delightful summer read about a wealthy Jewish family, the Fletchers, grappling with grief, repressed trauma, and the sudden slipping away of their family fortune.

The book grabs you instantly with a violent kidnapping and then jumps forward and back in time to explore the psyches of each of the Fletcher children as they process what has become of their family in the wake of their grandmother’s death. And wait until you discover what the “Long Island Compromise” is. 

We loved… show more.

The opening of this book knocked me out, and I was hooked.

I usually veer toward literary, slower, familial dramas, but this book combined what I love in literary family dynamics with the frightening premise of an inexplicable disaster occurring in the outside world. The suspicion we were quick to possess about others during the early days of the pandemic is heightened to a new level with two couples pitted against each other, one preoccupied with the welfare and antics of their children.

I loved the construct that had even spouses second-guessing each other. The intensity of the situation brought out the worst and eventually the better sides of all the characters, a phenomenon that resonated as I read this book during the first year of the pandemic, at the same time rioters invaded our nation’s capital.  

First published in 1980, Gaywyck was the first historical gay gothic romance. Virga, whose day job for forty years was as photo editor, turns his extraordinary eye on turn-of-the-last century New York.

The tangled lives, dark secrets, and mad love – all conventions of the romance genre – are stood on their heads in this reimagining. “I realized genre has no gender,” Virga says, and set about cannily reversing roles and inverting tropes to fashion a puzzle wrapped in an enigma of requited and unrequited love.

Gaywyck stands the test of time and remains a modern classic.   

This is an evocative mystery with not one but two atmospheric settings: Long Island’s Suffolk County, and Ireland’s County Clare. When an Irish national is found dead on a Long Island beach, Detective Maggie D’arcy’s planned vacation to Ireland becomes a tense investigation into the mysterious victim’s death, and a fight to keep her young daughter safe both abroad and back at home. I found A Distant Grave to be deeply chilling and impossible to put down. 

“Of all the kids in the seventh grade at Camillo Junior High, there was one kid that Mrs. Baker hated with heat whiter than the sun. Me.”

When I read that first line, I assumed The Wednesday Wars was going to be another shallow story with the typical conflict between a mean teacher and a student victim. But I was wrong. Completely wrong.

The Wednesday Wars will make you smile a real smile, not a teacher smile. It will make you laugh as you learn Shakespearean curses. It will make you cry when a student earns the high praise of “chrysanthemum” from a teacher who is no longer an enemy but a friend. This won’t make sense until you read the book, and it’s definitely worth reading this book.