100 Books Like Congo

When I was a child, my father and older brother read Walt Disney’s Uncle Scrooge comic books. I received them as hand-me-downs and was enchanted by the astonishing adventures of Uncle Scrooge McDuck and his nephews. These illustrated tales of lost civilizations touched a special chord in me that transcended mere enjoyment. Later, I learned that Scrooge’s creator was Carl Barks, a comic artist who was heavily inspired by H. Rider Haggard. It is now clear that Carl Barks inculcated in me, when I was eight years old, my Victorian/Edwardian adventure literary tastes. But it was twenty years later that my literary tastes finally became dedicated to turn-of-the-19th-century literary styles and themes. 

When I was a child, my father and older brother read Walt Disney’s Uncle Scrooge comic books. I received them as hand-me-downs and was enchanted by the astonishing adventures of Uncle Scrooge McDuck and his nephews. These illustrated tales of lost civilizations touched a special chord in me that transcended mere enjoyment. Later, I learned that Scrooge’s creator was Carl Barks, a comic artist who was heavily inspired by H. Rider Haggard. It is now clear that Carl Barks inculcated in me, when I was eight years old, my Victorian/Edwardian adventure literary tastes. But it was twenty years later that my literary tastes finally became dedicated to turn-of-the-19th-century literary styles and themes. 

When I was a child, my father and older brother read Walt Disney’s Uncle Scrooge comic books. I received them as hand-me-downs and was enchanted by the astonishing adventures of Uncle Scrooge McDuck and his nephews. These illustrated tales of lost civilizations touched a special chord in me that transcended mere enjoyment. Later, I learned that Scrooge’s creator was Carl Barks, a comic artist who was heavily inspired by H. Rider Haggard. It is now clear that Carl Barks inculcated in me, when I was eight years old, my Victorian/Edwardian adventure literary tastes. But it was twenty years later that my literary tastes finally became dedicated to turn-of-the-19th-century literary styles and themes. 

When I was a child, my father and older brother read Walt Disney’s Uncle Scrooge comic books. I received them as hand-me-downs and was enchanted by the astonishing adventures of Uncle Scrooge McDuck and his nephews. These illustrated tales of lost civilizations touched a special chord in me that transcended mere enjoyment. Later, I learned that Scrooge’s creator was Carl Barks, a comic artist who was heavily inspired by H. Rider Haggard. It is now clear that Carl Barks inculcated in me, when I was eight years old, my Victorian/Edwardian adventure literary tastes. But it was twenty years later that my literary tastes finally became dedicated to turn-of-the-19th-century literary styles and themes. 

While volunteering in a psychotic disorder unit at a Montreal psychiatric hospital, I witnessed firsthand the extraordinary lives of people hospitalized for their symptoms. As their stories accumulated, I felt compelled to record them. What emerged was a stark indictment of society’s failure to see the human being behind experiences such as hearing voices, delusions, and hallucinations. Compounding this injustice is the persistent, misguided belief that psychosis and violence are intrinsically linked—they are not. My work became a mission: to reveal the humanity behind the diagnosis and to challenge the stigma, opening minds to the creativity, beauty, and love that exist in every person who has endured the profound exclusion of mental illness.

Like many adults, I love a good YA story. YA books take us back to our younger days when we were stronger, faster, and likely better-looking, but also to the confusing transitional time of being a teenager. Mostly, I love reading and writing YA novels because despite being about hard topics–friendship, disease, toppling the patriarchy–they are hopeful. In this confusing, stressful world, we need a little optimism. With that in mind, I offer you five of my favorite YA books that I think adults will love, too.

I have always been interested in the metaphysical and in psychology, so I have always gravitated to how the mind creates our perception of reality and how that can be stretched. Coming to this country as a refugee with my family and watching the struggles of my family has given me a keen interest in the human mind, resilience, and mental health. My artwork and writing lends itself towards magical realism and the blurring between reality and the supernatural. I truly believe that things are often not what they seem and I aim to prove it. 

My childhood was marred by change and a search for meaning. Born in the UK to an English mother and Iraqi father, moving to Iraq as a toddler and then back to the UK as a 14-year-old, I was exposed to the dramatic differences in the unwritten rules of how we are meant to behave and experience the world. It was probably inevitable that after training as a doctor, I would eventually end up as a child and adolescent psychiatrist grappling with big questions about life and its struggles. These are the books that opened my mind to re-imagining these dilemmas. I hope they help to open yours, too.

I have the expertise for this topic because I was raised in a loving home with a mother who struggled with bipolar disorder. At times my life was hilariously adventurous or heart-wrenchingly sad. Given little direction, I married an alcoholic and then went on to work at a Drug and Alcohol Treatment Center. I have fallen on hard times, but at the age of thirty-two, as a single mother collecting welfare, I managed to grief, heal and dig myself out, creating a rewarding life. I am optimistic, and I try to find humour in all things, especially after the tears and healing have subsided. My writing has brought me tremendous healing and joy.

One of the reasons I wanted to write about and explore mental health was because I was always fascinated by how the mind works and how it can turn on you without provocation. How and why some people can power through dark times, while others struggle is a topic that, within the African American community, isn't frequently discussed.  Often the advice given to someone about how to get through depression or anxiety is to pray or just dig deep and power through. It is the idea that because our ancestors suffered so much, those of us living in "easier" times should have nothing to be sad about that seems to prevent us from asking for help or getting therapy.