100 Books Like Chouette

Lawlor’s novel gave me the best gift a book can offer: it changed my mind halfway through.

I had been so intrigued by the premise of a shapeshifting character who can change their gender at will, that I forced myself to read on even though I wasn’t enjoying the emphasis on sex, especially as conquest, and I was sorely disappointed the story didn’t seem to go deeper.

But as I continued, I was happy to be proven wrong. By the end of the novel, I was checking my own biases and prejudices and empathizing deeply with Paul and his/her/their struggles. Reading this novel was an emotional experience unlike any I’ve had with a book.

Like a hipster Brooklyn transgender Sex and the City, this novel is a chatty, hilarious, and moving look at queer folks grasping for parenthood and family in a world where all the rules have been thrown out.

The book’s narrator, transwoman Reese, takes us on this ride with such sardonic, poignant insight about the world she lives in that we begin to feel like we live in it, too. When Reese’s ex, Ames—who has detransitioned from his former transwoman identity, Amy—gets his straight female boss pregnant, the three of them begin negotiating how they might raise the child together.

But the novel’s true power lies in how Reese explains her life and her friends to us—bravely refusing to portray trans people as angelic role models and instead offering something deeper and more endearing: showing them as real people.

Against the backdrop of a speculative future in which extra shadows have become the alternative to prison and cameras watch our every move, I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself takes a raw, honest look at grief, family, queerness, and how we survive.

Kris has lost her wife Beau and gained an extra shadow—along with a child who also has an extra shadow. As she navigates her new reality, Kris can either sink deeper into her grief, accepting a life of surveillance and oppression for herself and her kid, or she can choose love and hope.

Crane’s approach to storytelling, open and vulnerable and using small fragments and pop quizzes, allowed me deep into Kris’s heart, and I rooted for her as she forged a life against all odds.   

I started this book for the unlikely main character–Sister Holiday, a chain-smoking, tattooed, queer nun–but it was the mystery that kept me reading. I always love it when a writer can make me feel like I am the one on the line, like I am fighting for my life or to prove my innocence. This book did just that.

I found I was holding myself tightly as Sister Holiday investigated but just kept finding more evidence against herself. The snippets of her past life made me feel for her more and more, taking the character from an unlikely hero to someone I cared deeply about. I can’t wait to get my hands on the second in the series.

At some point, every child is in a situation, maybe just for a few seconds, where they are not totally sure that their parent is coming back. I can still remember the look on my kids’ faces on their first day at nursery school! That feeling is no different for the young owl siblings in this story, left alone in the dark woods when their mother flies off in search of food. 

I love the simplicity of this tale, and the language is beautiful. We often turned to it at bedtime in our house, and no matter how many times I read, “Soft and silent, she swooped through the trees to Sarah and Percy and Bill,” it never got old.

Because…burrowing owls! Because…the power of kids to make a difference!

Hiassen’s story (a Newbery honor) brims with love and awe for Florida’s natural world, including these adorable owls who live underground and stand maybe six inches tall. When greedy developers threaten their dens, our hero Roy teams up with a supernaturally strong girl and her slightly feral brother to save them.

I love this book for its unshakeable belief in kids, who know injustice when they see it, for how it handles serious topics with a deft and witty touch, and for how it made me think of Florida in new ways. A hoot for sure! 

A nearly wordless comic about a cute little owl who goes on adventures and meets new friends. Not only is Owly adorable – but it’s practically wordless. This series is perfect for an early reader who wants to start reading graphic novels on their own. Its non-intimidating approach makes it a great start for any reluctant reader. Plus, did I mention that Owly is super cute? 

One of the best books about someone desperate to sleep is Good-night, Owl! written and illustrated by Pat Hutchins. This is short and jolly, excellent for very young children, and there is a board book format available. The clear bright pictures are like mosaics.

Poor Owl, who has to sleep in the daytime, is constantly disturbed by bees buzzing, woodpeckers pecking, doves cooing and squirrels cracking nuts. These are refreshingly local creatures, not exotic zoo inmates. It’s a rhythmic, cumulative text which I often read to the young children I taught. They loved to join in with the noises, and act the story. There’s a surprise ending. You’ll love to see Owl get his own back!

One of my favorite picture books ever of all time, I’m Not Santa features an exceptionally cute owlet. He’s the same guy from I’m Not Cute (but he is!!) except this time he’s out in the snow at Christmas time, wearing a red cap and pulling a sled. So, of course, when Baby Owl runs into Baby Hare, the little hare sees the red cap, mistakes the sled for a sleigh, and cries, “Santa! It’s you!” Baby Owl insists, “I’m not Santa! I’m an owl!” Baby Hare refuses to believe it and starts to cry. Soon they’re both crying, until the real  Santa shows up to talk some sense into these two. Sweet and totally hysterical! 

This book is about nature and winter, about owling and hope. Every page is like a poem, and I can feel the winter gentle, silent as a dream. I love the details that are so real to me: long shadows on snow as white as milk in a cereal bowl. 

I hear the train in the distance as farm dogs answer in a song. I can relate so vividly that this book gives me shivers. I know that feeling of a scarf over my mouth, wet and warm and furry. Meant to be read over and over, I still delight in finding animals unexpectedly hidden in the winter night. The subtext about bravery, patience, and hope in the relationship between father and daughter brings tears every time.