100 Books Like Slow Motion

Each time I read this American classic, it changes in meaning and relevance.

Told from Francie’s point of view, it’s a family’s coming-of-age story about overcoming personal and societal choices in order to persevere and grow, just like the tree in the title. Smith is one of the first authors to write about the real, human struggles of working-class Americans at the start of the 20th century.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn is not a light, whimsical read but it’s one that sticks with me. I relate to Francie, a vulnerable, observant young woman who uses her writing as a way to process, explore, and eventually propel her into a different life, away from the trauma and poverty of her beloved Brooklyn.

This book is one that everyone needs to read and that I find myself going back to again and again.

Manhattan Beach is less experimental and more conventional than Jennifer Egan's A Visit From The Goon Squad and The Candy House, but it is every bit as moving, rich, and textured as those justly celebrated novels, and it contains one of the most touching father/daughter relationships that I've ever encountered in fiction.

A historical novel set in Depression and World War II-era New York City, Manhattan Beach begins with almost 12-year-old Anna Kerrigan accompanying her rakish father, Eddie, on a mission to a wealthy gangster. A few years later, Eddie disappears after abruptly walking out on his family with no warning or explanation.

Has he been killed? Is he in hiding?  Why did he abandon a family he ostensibly loved? Plucky, brave Anna devotes herself to the search for her missing father with the ingenuity and zeal of the detectives she reads about in fiction.

I reviewed Manhattan Beach for… show more.

Lily King’s Writers & Lovers is set in Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1997, where my own novel takes place a century earlier. It’s a fictional coming-of-age story of a young woman who tries to write her way into adulthood.

Casey Peabody works as a waitress in Harvard Square, spends time with her aspiring writer friends, walks along the Charles River, and sits for hours at her desk trying to write, all of which I did in those same places at her same age and often with the same sense of longing—and which, incidentally, Victoria Swann does, too, albeit while wearing a floor-length skirt and using a fountain pen.

Casey, Victoria, and I, (and I assume Lily King herself), were not alone: so many people I’ve met over the years have spent time in their twenties hanging out around Harvard Square, anxious and waiting to become the grown-ups we hoped to be.… show more.

Fairyland: A Memoir of My Father is a gorgeous, poetic memoir first published in 2013; it was recently turned into a film produced by Sofia Coppola that will be in theaters in late 2023. 

Alysia is the only child of Steve Abbott, a bisexual writer, activist, and poet who raises her on his own after her mother dies in a car accident when Alysia is just a toddler.

Fairyland tells the story of Steve and Alysia's vibrant, bohemian life in San Francisco's Haight Ashbury in the 1970s and 80s, Alysia's grappling with the challenges of being raised by a queer man when few if any of the kids she knew were, Steve's illness and death from AIDS.

Alysia's clear-eyed depiction of her father as both abundantly loving and somewhat unreliable, exciting and dangerous but also steadfast and loyal, is a model for how to represent a complicated human being with… show more.

This book is a haunting and provocative exploration of power, manipulation, and the lasting scars of trauma. Kate Elizabeth Russell masterfully delves into the nuances of coercion, consent, and the ways in which trauma can shape identity, crafting a deeply unsettling yet unforgettable narrative that lingers long after the final page.

When I finished this book I had to sit in the dark and just process my thoughts. My next thought was to read the book again and to be seared all over again by the events. For an exploration of sexual abuse, it never succumbs to any gratuitous or cheap trick scenes. A book that needed to be written.

“Tell me what you can’t forget, and I’ll tell you who you are.”

Thus begins Marlena, Julie Buntin’s debut novel about Marlena and Cat, who meet as fifteen-year-olds in rural Michigan. Their friendship is intense and complicated, and right from the start, we know that Cat is the only one who makes it out alive.

Buntin’s writing perfectly captures the voice and texture of adolescence, and her book is a model for how to maintain tension in a story when you find out early on (page 6 to be exact) that one of the main characters is dead.

The sections featuring Cat as an adult show that while she may have left her small town behind, she can’t escape her past. 

My aunt was a misunderstood social misfit who rode a bucking bronco bareback and held on for as long as she could. One of the two central characters of this book is just like the woman I remember my aunt being–brash, unapologetic, a little self-destructive, and possessing an unshakeable faith in a humanity that didn’t understand or deserve her.

I wish she wasn’t taken from me. I wish I knew her better. When I read this book, I can feel her spirit. 

I have bought multiple copies of One Drop as gifts for biracial family members, as well as friends.

Broyard is the daughter of Anatole Broyard, celebrated New York Times book critic in the 1960s and 70s. Only after his death did even his wealthy white wife and mixed children discover his Black heritage. The public—self included—was equally shocked.

Bliss Boyard researches his Louisiana roots, meets her Black cousins, and writes a fascinating, deeply personal story of “race,” showing its often bizarre contours as some family members may be classified as “white,” others “colored” or any number of other categorizations, from “octoroon” on.

A healing narrative, beautifully told.

A spirit of comédie humaine suffuses this collection of short stories set largely among Orthodox Jewish communities. Englander has an affectionate comic touch, and that’s obvious here.

Just as important is his gift for limning out the pain of people pulled between the comfort of belonging on the one hand and, on the other, the urge, perhaps the need to rebel.

This 1925 autobiographical novel dropped me into the middle of New York’s Lower East Side Jewish neighborhoods in the early 20th century. The main character has a life of substantial struggle with and against her family, employers, landlords, and an American society that seems intent on erasing her.

While the book has elements of both a classic immigrant story and a coming-of-age tale, I love how it reveals the realities of urban living for a young immigrant woman. The pace and practices of making a home in a too-small space, getting by on minimal resources, scrumming for work, and avoiding harassment fill this book’s chapters. As a social and cultural historian, reading about daily activities–both struggles and joys–in a different time and place helps fire my imagination about not just what happened but how it might have felt to experience it.