100 Books Like Go as a River

I love this book because of Judy Blume’s gift for rendering deeply truthful portrayals of coming-of-age stories.

Judy Blume does not shy away from the gritty aspects of growing up and portraying sex in all its awkward and, sometimes, embarrassing glory. I love that the characters do not get a “happy ever after” just to end the book on a positive note. The characters have complex lives and there is no line between love and hate, only a grey, messy soup of emotions that feels so real, your skin will prickle with goosebumps as you follow along.

I am especially fond of the story’s two timelines, which allow the reader to feel all the angst of coming-of-age while also experiencing the repercussions in adulthood.

The on-target humour of this book helped get me through the lockdown. It is a comic novel about love, lust, and guerrilla dentistry in 1980s Leicester. How could I resist that? 

I found the main character–teenager Lizzie Vogel, the guerrilla dentist in question–to be a hilarious and compelling creation, filled with the arrogance and naïveté of youth, very much in the tradition of Adrian Mole. 

In fact, the book teems with entertaining, richly observed characters and absurd situations. Though there is plenty to laugh at, what impressed me most was Nina Stibbe’s gift for making her characters so real that, even while I was laughing at their antics, I felt great sympathy for them and their disappointments. 

This book made me want to scream at the main characters (in the best way!) most of the way through. There’s a perfect meet-cute, the kind that had me wondering why no one has ever thought to approach me in that way.

Plus, as a recovering grad student, I totally relate to having a quarter-life crisis and trying to figure out if the career I thought I wanted was really where I wanted to go.

The dialogue is whip-fast (even when the main character, Angie, is decidedly NOT getting her s*** together), and the romance combined with the growth that Angie experiences over the course of the book makes the ultimate payoff totally worth it. 

Tell the Wolves I’m Home is literary and lyrical and it broke my heart into a thousand pieces while simultaneously piecing it back together again.

When June loses her beloved Uncle Finn at the height of the AIDs epidemic, she also loses the person who understands her the most. Then she forms a friendship with the partner he left behind, Toby, and together they help each other through the loneliness they both feel without him.

I liked that this book isn’t afraid to explore complicated relationships – especially between siblings. It also shines a light on a time when ignorance caused so much pain, through characters who are confused, flawed, and deeply human. The writing is beautiful.  

I love The Age of Miracles because I was so taken with Walker’s scientific premise, that by the “slowing” of rotation, the world would come to its inevitable end. This scientifically grounded plot point was something I found arresting; it fascinated me immediately. I also loved Walker’s eleven-year-old protagonist, Julia. Julia is genuine, believable, set in her strange but also eerily recognizable nearing-the-apocalypse world. Julia also has a rich, and I felt very authentic, inner life. Her emotions rang true, and the plot not only riveted me, it broke my heart. 

As this novel is set in 1970s Islamabad, Pakistan and the ex-pats are mainly American, it’s technically not about the British in India. But the ex-colonial legacy is there to see: Pakistan was a creation of independence from British rule and is still being affected by geo-politics. I was gripped by the description of life in the Pakistani capital; an area where my grandparents had lived and worked and through which I had travelled in the ’70s. This coming-of-age story is told by teenager Aliya, (half-Pakistani and half-Dutch) who attends the American school. Not only are the tensions of identity well portrayed but also the growing unease between the communities after a traffic accident leaves a young boy dead and world events ignite further unrest. Fascinating and unusual historical fiction.

With a Persepolis meets Maus approach, this graphic novel visually takes us into the daily life that locals live in Kashmir, the most militarized zone in the world. This ground-up storytelling is intimate and powerful, as it takes us behind the propaganda and gives us the insider’s view in explosive, insightful, and humorous ways. Images may be more powerful than words, and this book has haunting images that will linger long after you finish the last page.

Given that this novel is set in Mississippi in the 1950s, I was intrigued by the teen-aged friendship at its center. When Cassie, who’s black, and Judith, who’s white, learn that they have the same father, they decide to join forces in claiming their share of the family inheritance. The result is a sometimes perilous and even other-worldly road trip from Mississippi to Virginia, during which the girls’ budding relationship is sorely tested. 

The logline sounds like the most depressing character study you’ll ever read. A story of a pregnant teenager, Jane, who lives with her mom after the death of her father. Jane spends her days delivering pizzas and her nights drinking beers alone in a shed behind their house. But thanks to the prose, and the pacing of the plotting, this book is both funny, engaging, and something of a psychological thriller. Especially when Jane becomes obsessed with one of her regulars, a stay-at-home mom. We marveled at Kyoung Frazier’s ability to put us in the head of Jane, in a way that we actually wanted to stay there.

This novel explores deep emotional trauma, friendship, and the complexities of identity over several decades. It’s a profound and often harrowing read that delves into the lives of its characters with great depth. I sat on the sidewalk in a beach town and cried at the end.

It’s such a crushing story that I pick and choose who I recommend it to. For lovers of literary craft? Yes. For those who love finely crafted, believable characters? Yes. For those who might come undone by the cruelties we humans are able to exert on each other? Perhaps not. So hard but so worthwhile.