Books like Milk and Honey — picked by fans

Victor Frankl was an Austrian psychologist who was sent to Auschwitz by the German Nazis because he was Jewish.

While in the camp, Frankl noticed that individual prisoners responded in totally different ways to the same appalling circumstances: some stole food from others, some hoarded their food, and some shared their food with others. He concludes that human freedom is ineradicable. He also learned from his camp experience that people want meaning in life as much as they want food or water. Human beings do not live for pleasure, but for the discovery of meaning.

I loved this very inspiring and compelling book about how some people, like Frankl, can rise above the most horrendous suffering.

I was deeply affected by this, like she was confiding in me.

Whether her memories were tragic, ugly, hilarious, witty, classy, silly, poignant, or just plain practical, it was like we were sharing a glass of wine and she was telling me everything. 

I loved that she sent me every feeling of the rainbow, and each was felt deeply. I love when a story makes me laugh and cry. It was inspiring and beautiful to spend some time with this poet, reminiscing about her early years, before she was the Maya we know now.

Also, I feel schooled in what it was like to be black in America at that time, and what a gutsy journey she was on. It was an important eye-opener, as well as a warm invitation.

This fascinating and charming book was written by a French magazine editor after he suffered a massive stroke and was locked inside his own body, unable to speak or move. Incredibly, he wrote this book in his mind throughout the day and then each letter was slowly transcribed by blinking his eyes. I kept thinking about this book long after I read it. It’s a nightmare scenario, but he leads us all the way through it. We’re with him as he survives and even finds meaning when almost everything else is lost.

This book was chosen because of the deep, profound love that is displayed throughout the book. It speaks to how vulnerable a person makes themselves when they love deeply and how scary that can be. It also speaks to how you can feel so totally lost in loving another person that you forget to love yourself. I could identify with loving so intensely also and having my heart broken. I also identified with the journey of coming to loving oneself again and with that being open to finding someone better. 

I’ve read several of Christina Henry’s books. I enjoyed them all, but this one is my absolute favorite. Mattie lives in the mountains with her abusive husband, and she has no memory beyond the last few years, and she lives in fear of her husband’s wrath. An unknown, large creature appears and makes things more complicated. Mattie has to escape her husband and a monster in the woods and try to remember her past. This novel is one of the best horror stories I’ve ever read. It’s suspenseful and you never know what will happen next. One of my favorite things about this novel is, despite the supernatural creature, it’s not over-the-top and everything feels real including the actions and choices of the characters. This is definitely a must-read.

I read this novel when I was hungry for books with strong female characters.

The main character, the unnamed midwife, didn’t disappoint. Her journey emphasizes the importance of choice and agency when it comes to reproductive decisions. She works to empower women to make choices about their own bodies and reproductive futures, even in a world where such choices are limited.

England, in the near future, walking blindly into totalitarianism, everything falling apart. Eve has grown up in a happy family, with loving parents, but not even they can protect her from the world collapsing around them. Eve sets out on a journey, alone, across the wild Yorkshire moors, in search of new ways of living. This is a powerful, beautiful graphic novel from Una. 

If you love books that tie themselves to movie genre tropes, you’ll not only love my novel, but also this one by Riley Sager, his first novel that launched a huge career and made him a household name.

Set around Quincy, a young woman who survives a horrible massacre in which all her friends are killed, she becomes what’s known in horror movies as Final Girl meaning she’s the only one who made it out alive. Linked to 2 other Final Girls by the media, Quincy leads a pretty normal life until someone starts killing Final Girls.

A fun read that’s inspired countless knockoffs that would make a killer movie. 

You can’t get much more food-oriented in science fiction than a novel called The Hunger Games, and true to its name, food and food politics play a central role in the book’s theme. The book’s author, Suzanne Collins, uses juxtaposition and food politics throughout the series to highlight the difference between the haves and the have-nots. While all the books in the Hunger Games series highlight these discrepancies, it’s Collins’s second book Catching Fire where the differences are most pronounced. The feast in the Capitol, along with its potions to induce vomiting (and by extension, encourage more eating), stands out in particular: The reaction of the book’s main character, Katniss Everdeen, herself a poor girl from the Seam of District 12 makes this scene both comical and revolting.

I chose Outage by Ellisa Barr because it came from a unique viewpoint with regards to an attack that brings down an electrical grid; namely, a young person’s perspective. While other novels about grid attacks primarily have adults as a protagonist, Outage tackles the topic from a younger person’s frame of reference, along with all the unique adolescent problems that come with it. 

And while the temptation would be for the main character, an adolescent girl, to become a courageous and seasoned adult overnight, the author wisely takes her time and sets us on a journey of a slower evolution. While not containing any revelatory information about what elements of a society beset with no electricity would have to endure, I still liked this book as it reminded me to not always see things from my adult perspective.