100 Books Like Olivia and the Little Way

This is another one I have re-read because I love the fantasy aspect. I didn’t come across C.S. Lewis’ books until I was a young adult, and then it was his adult writings. Now, I’m loving catching up on his Narnia series.

Written in 1950, this classic tale lives on, never becoming out of date, and I love that it is currently a stage production.

As a Christian, I also love a classic tale of good versus evil, with the drama between the white witch and the lion hero, Aslan, who overcomes death to save Narnia from the witch’s evil spell. For me, it’s a truly inspirational allegorical tale that stands the test of time.

As a fan of Catholic history and historical fiction, this story is surely one of my favorites. Set during the Great War, WWI, twenty-one-year-old Julia has her heart set on meeting her future husband. She makes and purchases expensive gifts for him–she's ready. Surely, she will meet her beloved soon.

When Julia is sent overseas with the Red Cross, she finds herself caring for injured soldiers in a field hospital in France. As she matures, Julia begins giving the gifts she'd made or purchased to the injured soldiers. A touching addition to this book was the addition of beautiful sonnets between Julia and her beloved. 

So captivating! I couldn't put it down! This book is about a 16-year-old Catholic girl named Katelyn who discovers a bead from her grandmother's rosary one year after the devastating plane crash that took the life of her grandmother. The beads of her grandmother's rosary had been specially carved with the initials of family members–and this was her bead!

In time, Katelyn discovers that other beads have been found–and lives have been saved! Katelyn's mission has begun. I was deeply engaged in the book and eager for the mystery to be solved. It's so refreshing to find Catholic-based stories like this one. 

I love books about Catholic history and Lepanto's Lady delivers. The year is 1571, the time of the Battle of Lepanto, and young Rosa's father has been captured by enemies. So engaging, I felt myself holding my breath thoughout the story as Rosa is forced to overcome hurdle after hurdle in trying to rescue her father.

In her efforts, Rosa discovers the true power of the Rosary. This book was written in such a way that I felt as though I was there with her–every step of the way.

Let’s take things in a different direction with Story of a Soul, the spiritual autobiography of a French nun who died in cloistered obscurity in 1897 at the age of 24. Like a lot of people, I was initially skeptical about what wisdom this sheltered, middle-class young woman would have to offer; at first blush, her piety seemed conventional and old-fashioned. But the more I read, the more she won me over: underneath the sometimes-flowery language I discovered a fierce passion (all those exclamation marks!), a refreshing forthrightness, and cunning wisdom that actually subverts conventional piety with its “littleness.” Story of a Soul isn’t an instruction manual; rather, it’s the very personal, joyful account of one young woman’s “little way” to Jesus—a way so simple, anyone can follow it.

This is an incredibly fun mystery with a great combination of action, adventure, and growing tension. The main characters are well-developed, likable, and positive role models. Eve is romantic, talkative, and doesn’t try to be like everyone else. Nick is level-headed, resourceful, and charming. Plus, he comes from a big and very interesting family.

As a history lover, I enjoyed the tidbits about the Civil War and the “virtual tour” of Washington D.C., visiting museums, monuments, cemeteries, and other historical places with the characters as they tried to solve this unique mystery. Several wonderful messages are weaved through this story, too, like trusting in God even when we can’t understand His plan and realizing that the smaller missions from God are just as important as the bigger missions.

I love this book because it was the first book of poetry I ever read that made me realize I could get it, that poems could be about me, women, feelings, relationships, my experience. It blew my mind.

I was an English major, and when the professors talked about modern poetry by men, I always felt baffled. These were poems I could understand and relate to. I read them shouting with joy, even though they were not happy poems.

It was okay to write and read poems about all kinds of feelings, and they didn't have to be in mysterious language. The language of these poems is wonderful, but it's also clear.

DeMello was a Jesuit priest and a psychologist.

His workshops were legendary and had a deep impact on thousands. His books have touched millions. He was eclectic and open-minded and readily acknowledged the power of spiritual practices from traditions outside the Church.

For this, his books were removed from Catholic bookstores and a warning issued that his writings could mislead young minds. He was passionate about truth and cavalier about dogma.

Some might question my choice of a work of fiction here, but I have always been a great admirer of this fine writer's work. Catholics best displays the transitional period from the economically dreary 1930s-1950s, to the often-painful thrust of Ireland into the modernity of a European Union and growing national prosperity. The plot vehicle Moore uses is the story of a crisis of faith as monks living in virtual medieval isolation on an island off Co. Kerry (and indulging in the now forbidden Latin mass) are dragged into conformity by a Vatican plenipotentiary who is determined to break them. In the process, he destroys the foundations of their entire spiritual lives, shatters their traditions, and shows little remorse in doing so. I don't know if Moore, who died in 1999, meant his book to be a metaphor of the New Ireland, but it succeeds in showing a country turning… show more.

If you’re older, you probably read O’Connor’s short story “A Good Man is Hard to Find” for one or more lit classes; if you’re younger, you may have never heard of her as she is now “problematic” according to the unfunny woke-on-steroids crowd. I love O’Connor because I love characters with moral failings, I love mordant humor, and I love the possibility that even the most irredeemable among us can experience moments of grace. The brief details in her stories do such heavy lifting in terms of irony, for example when a Wellesley undergrad hits Mrs. Turpin in the head with a copy of Human Development in the short story “Revelation.” The action itself – a privileged white college student from an elite school inflicting violence upon a rural white woman – also speaks to our ongoing culture wars.