100 Books Like Green Dot

Very few books have affected me more than this autobiographical Japanese manga. The book's author, artist, and protagonist is a young woman navigating her family relationships, mental health, and sexuality. In the grips of depression, desperate to be touched, the protagonist goes to an escort agency—but the plot is not the point.

Nagata’s willingness to “go there” feels so fresh, and is so vulnerable and heartfelt. As a queer person there was a lot to identify with, as a writer I took away a determination to try and be even half as vulnerable in my writing, and as a young woman I felt seen in a new way. 

I love an audacious woman, even if she is a hot mess. This book follows Alex, a young woman who’s been staying at the Hamptons with an older man. She’s a calculated person, good at capitalizing on the good natures and human weaknesses of others, but a small misstep brings her free ride with the older man to an end. Instead of leaving, she decides to linger on Long Island.

Each night, she finds a new person to graft, a new scheme to help her stay. Spending time with Alex was stressful and made me want to shake her for her short-sightedness and self-sabotaging. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but admire her grit and wonder what on earth she was going to do next.

This book kicked off my obsession with stories about young women who are trying to make sense of all the versions of themselves they have inside and weighing up which one to present to the world at any given time. The protagonist, Ruth, is an American living in London who works at a department store, spritzing perfume during the day, watching all the people go past, and trying to understand how the other young women who work there seem so self-assured. This is not a plot-driven book so much as a character study of a character who doesn’t know who she is yet.

Kate Zambreno’s writing is absolutely gorgeous. She creates a distance between Ruth—the ‘green girl’—and the world, like she’s looking through a window and can see people inside talking but not understand what they’re saying. At the same time, I recognized myself in Ruth,… show more.

A young woman working in a pet library reads Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson and decides that, moving forward, she must stop wasting her life and begin living it according to the book’s Core Values: boldness, resolution, independence, and horn-blowing.

Far from a motivational story, this is about a ridiculous protagonist who behaves in increasingly outrageous ways—very much an unlikeable character (I noticed that someone had tagged Treasure Island!!! under the category ‘unhinged women,’ which feels right). But gosh, did this book make me giggle? Humor can be hit-and-miss as it’s so subjective and sometimes tries too hard, but women behaving irrationally or badly just hits me in the right place.

After 608 days, Maggie is single again and almost 30–two things that give cause for concern and reflection. Thankfully, Maggie takes no blame for either thing happening and plows on, determined to find the pearl in the gritty oyster her life has become.

I laughed, but I also found myself filled with sad recognition of how we all too often set goals we’ll never score, only to find that halfway home is where the heart is.

Newman delicately explores the tumultuous journey of mothers going through the rigors of menopause and how this affects the way they deal with their adult children.

I thought she handled that awful sense of “what is happening to me?” while at the same time her main character needs to be the same woman she’s always been to keep her family together.

This is a beautiful story.

This book aroused all of my senses. The way the author wove together the rekindling romance of Theo and Kit with such mouthwatering descriptions of food, wine, and the sheer joy of European travel was captivating. I could cut the sexual tension with a knife, and it awoke a hunger inside me. As a gay man, the friendly wager they made—the first to sleep with the Italian tour guide wins—is so relatable...and fun.

The book is written from an immersive first-person perspective, which I found particularly interesting. Getting to delve into their individual thoughts and feelings about their shared history made their reconnection feel so real and earned. It was such a lush and ultimately heartwarming story of finding love again, set against the most gorgeous scenery. I finished it feeling satisfied, but it left me with a serious craving for both a second read and a sexy… show more.

This is the kind of book I like to read in a day, curled up in my favorite chair or stretched out in a backyard hammock. From the moment I opened the cover, I was immersed in this funny, sweet story and captivated by the endearing characters.

I love a romance that has some shadows to balance out the lightness, and this finds that balance.

I grew up in rural Ireland, so not exactly the gritty urban Scotland of Welsh’s novel, but the first thing that struck me about the book was its savage, semi-feral, intensely real Scottish dialect. I’d never seen anything quite like it in print.

The prose feels almost illegal, a ne’er-do-well that has simply decided to break into the publishing house and force its way onto the page without anyone’s permission. I didn’t consciously plan to steal this technique for my own novel, but how could I not endorse it?

Welsh has written more explicitly psychedelic works, but this book remains for me his masterwork, underscoring how, in many ways, his protagonist Renton’s life is at its weirdest when he tries to get sober.  

What if elevator inspectors had their own influential guild? Not science fiction, not fantasy, and not even alternative history. Just a riveting, delightful, challenging ‘what if’ that does not fit in a box. In a shaft. In a skyscraper. When I first heard about this book, I thought elevator inspection might be, let’s say, resistant to novel-sized interrogation.

To this, I now say, behold the umbrella that fits in the purse or the king-sized mattress that arrives in a toddler-sized box. This book unfolds and puffs up deliberately and warmly, and eventually, you find yourself curled up, reading about the very nature of thought. In a person. In a society. You don’t want to turn out the light and stop.