Books like Letters from My Sister

I love a book that tells me something new. Yes, I knew WACs served in World War II and that in the 1940s, women didn’t hold combat positions. I knew Black men served in segregated units. But I didn’t know about the Black women’s WAC 6888 Central Postal Directory Battalion.

I was riveted by this story of their deployment to Europe to sort mail for the troops. So many books about wars feature men. I loved the female characters and the grandmother sharing memories with her granddaughters–creating a bridge for today’s readers. I respect how the book speaks not only to military life and commitment but also to racial segregation and its effects on the young women serving our country.

Set in a fantasy world inspired by North African folklore and mythology, A River of Royal Blood creates the perfect environment for magic not seen in the mainstream literary fiction.

Within the story, magic plays an integral part in the conflict known as the “Rival Heir” tradition, where the female heirs to the throne must fight one another to the death when the youngest turns of age. Only one of them can be queen. The magic is their greatest tool but is somehow Eva’s greatest curse as no one knows how to use her magic, least of all her. And when more than just her older sister wants her dead because of her powerful magic, I was on the edge of my seat and impatiently awaiting a sequel.

I have long been a fan of Jennifer Weiner and expected another charming, funny (and modern) read when I picked up Mrs. Everything. But this book far surpassed my expectations. It was far more serious, ambitious, and sweeping than her other books. The story centers on two sisters growing up in 1950s Detroit, taking me back to an era where women were raised to be housewives alone, and follows them through the tumultuous sixties and beyond. Weiner’s writing and research are so strong, I felt like I experienced the historical milestones along with the characters. 

V.C. Andrews was my first dive into gothic fiction. Fans often fawn over Flowers in the Attic but something about Andrews' only standalone book (let's not talk about the sequel!) really spoke to 14-year-old me.

I loved the isolating setting of the aging Whitefern estate. I hated every member of the family. Audrina herself is an unreliable narrator who assures the reader just how unreliable she is. And so, of course, when a boy shows her interest, she dives headfirst into her only source of comfort.

Teenage me was smitten with this book, and adult me now sees all the red flags these characters wave. Andrews might not have been the best writer, but her storytelling ability sure cut into my coming-of-age female psyche like no other writer could.

To me, this slim novel is perfect, and perfectly constructed.

The narrator spends it obsessing over a single question–why did my sister marry an older, wealthy, boring man?–and doesn’t figure out the answer till the end. And in retrospect, it’s obvious. Meanwhile she also mulls over the options for young women circa the early 1960s in an England that’s transforming dramatically: Do I marry? Stay single? Let my life drift?

My parents bought the Penguin paperback when we lived in London in the late 1960s for a year, when the city was really swinging. I began reading it at 10 and was transfixed by the glimpse it offered into adulthood, and I have re-read the same paperback many times since.

This is a novella that starts off the Drake Sisters series. Each book in the series follows a different sister, giving each their romantic HEA (happily ever after). The sisters are known in their small coastal town for their supernatural powers.

They all have vastly different careers and different supernatural abilities. Each story is a page-turner, and the series' final book is the best of the bunch! I’ve read and reread it countless times.

I turn to this series when I’m in a reading slump, and it always turns it around for me. The romantic suspense with supernatural elements makes it a win for me.

I love everything Juliet Marillier writes. She is so good at using her knowledge of folklore to create magical stories in which the heroine must save the day. This book departs from her usual Celtic setting, taking us instead to Transylvania in the time of the Ottoman Empire and a reimagining of the Twelve Dancing Princesses.

The setting takes five sisters from a crumbling castle at the edge of the Wildwood to the Faerie Kingdom at the heart of that wood. I love how the Wildwood seems to tailor itself to the ages and personalities of the sisters. So, five-year-old Stela spends her time with cute and playful creatures, while elder sister Tatiana falls under the spell of Sorrow, one of the Night People. Protagonist Jena has her own love story with the talking frog Gogu.

What a wonderful, moral-rich, non-preachy, feel-good, tapped several of the big societal issues (adultery, death, divorce, pride, bullying, regret, work vs. family; you get the point), without ever once making me squirm with too many religious overtones, or want to run off to confess my improprieties. As a flower child at heart, I loved the continual nuances of people and growth compared to good soil and water, seasons, and blooms. This book was beautifully done.

When the matriarch of a loving family is diagnosed with cancer and determined to live out her days without treatment, there are twists and turns of reality that make this book a must-read. I too, nearly chose the path of non-treatment and this book resonates.

Well done, Julie Cantrell!

I love that this book makes you feel like you are right there getting to know the characters. The author does a great job describing their actions and personalities and makes you fall in love with them. Even though this is a book for kids, as an adult, I wanted to finish reading it after I had read the first page. It is hilarious in a fun, not silly, way.

I admit it: I underestimated Flavia de Luce.

She is 11 years old, self-schooled, and lives outside a small English town in the 1950s. She is overlooked and underestimated by everyone. Deep inside, I’m still 11 years old, underestimated, and overlooked. I had an insatiable desire to learn about my environment, and I often saw things others didn’t. Flavia also reminds me of my childhood living in the country in the 1980s. I ran unchecked, safe, and constantly delighted in discovering new things about my corner of the world. I wince at the de Luce family politics. I cheer Flavia’s investigations and her fearlessness. I want nothing more than to stay in Flavia’s 11-year-old world forever. She is the kick-ass kid I wanted to be.