98 Books Like Ramona the Pest

I love this book because it’s dark and unsettling. Wait, what? Yeah. Eleven-year-old Harriet roams her city, spying on adults and kids and writing about them in her notebook. Sounds cute, but her personality is pretty damn awful when you really look at her. And this I love. Call me perverse.

I was ten when I first met Harriet, a sneakers-and-jeans-wearing girl who doesn’t know much but wants to know more. She’s not upbeat. She does crappy things to her friends and enemies. Fascinating! I knew kids like that.

Harriet’s wit is based on calculation: If I do X, I might see Y result, and then I might learn Z.

Some readers label Harriet a sociopath. They’re missing it: She’s on a flawed mission to grow up. As was I.

Of course, if you’re talking classic impulse-control-challenged YA heroes, you’re almost obligated to mention Holden Caulfield.

So, okay: Holden Caulfield. But now let’s talk about Earl, who is not the protagonist of Me, Earl, and the Dying Girl, but the protagonist’s incredibly foul-mouthed, incredibly short, incredibly angry, incredibly funny sidekick and creative partner, who will windmill-kick you in the head if you mention his height to him.

Nonetheless, when alerted to the fact that the Girl is indeed Dying, it’s Earl who insists that Greg (Me) step up and be her friend, and it’s Earl who has the moral compass to teach Greg that compassion is more important than dignity. Earl might be a chain-smoking high-school dropout, but he has standards. 

Everyone should spend 30 minutes each day admiring Calvin and Hobbes, the best comic strip ever made.

Calvin is one of the truly magnificent heroes of children’s literature, an embodiment of all the imaginative and moral power that kids have and grownups don’t.

His best friend, Hobbes, is a profound thinker as well as an intermittently alive stuffed tiger, and together they live, squabbling and happy, in their own crazed world, triumphing over parents, teachers, and other authorities with dazzling illogic and hairbreadth escapes to other realities, much more interesting than this one, where you can evade chores by traveling into a future when they’ve already been done or mysteriously shrink to the size of an insect and wreak revenge on bullies.

Obviously, the Cat in the Hat is the King of Mayhem. But is he a hero?

I have to admit, The Cat in the Hat made me nervous as a kid—the Cat’s a force of chaos; the house is ruined; Mom will be mad! Even the happy ending seemed too precarious to enjoy and also involved lying to Mom, which, in my experience, never turned out well.

But when the Cat returns in The Cat in the Hat Comes Back, he seems, after a spate of insanity, to become sympathetic to the protagonists’ fears (they are awfully law-abiding, those kids), and he reforms to the extent of providing a solution to the problem he’s created: VOOM, which in my opinion is a metaphor for nuclear power, is a great cleaning agent and soon everything returns to its original tranquility, proving that the while the Cat in the Hat is… show more.

This is a book series that poses mysteries that are short and fun to solve. The answers are not insultingly easy, nor are they so hard or obscure that kids can’t solve them. The main character is very likable and is described in a way that makes you feel like he is a kid you would want to be friends with.

Mercer Mayer writes books for kids that are so funny that I seek them out and read them when I don’t even have any kids with me. His pictures do a great job of showing the sarcasm of the story. For instance, there is a page where the child is explaining how he does his chores. He says, “I didn’t forget to water the plants, but they looked fine to me.” 

The picture has a very droopy-looking plant. On almost every page, there are funny side critters to watch for, like a Where’s Waldo find. He’s a great author and illustrator.

This is a book that teaches a lesson in a way that makes you laugh even when you have read it over and over. I like that the kids in the story don’t figure out the mystery, but the pictures help the reader to solve it. Funny pictures and a funny telling of a great story.

This simple story indirectly shows how even when things don’t go as planned, it can all turn out well in the end. It is told in a way that is funny and fun to read, using the same phrases over and over to help kids learn to read. They even chant along with me when I read it to them.

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!