Books like Spy of the First Person — picked by fans

A book about how the microhistories found in personal archives are essential to our understanding of how people respond to the world around them, how they form and document their own identities, and how, sometimes, a true understanding of a life may come only through sifting through the ephemera of a person after their death.

But do we have the right to look? The author asks us to think of how we view the dead and whether the rights they held during life should still be attributed to them when they no longer inhabit this world.

A book full of the ideas of other writers and cultural theorists that moves deftly between memoir, history, and poetry.

When I read The Remember Balloons, I thought about my aunt Luella and cried. Like the grandpa in the story, her memories had left her.

The illustrator portrayed memories as different colored balloons, each containing a special moment. Grandpa and the child’s parents had lots of balloons, but as time went by, Grandpa’s balloons floated away. Grandpa even lost the balloon of a memory he and the child shared, the time they fished off the dock.

When Grandpa no longer remembered him, the child’s balloons increased. He now held all Grandpa’s memories. He would tell Grandpa his stories. This book explains memory loss to a child in a way they can understand. The imagery with the balloons spark interest and the story is simple, sweet, and honest.

The prequel to this book had a big influence on me when writing my own book, as I wanted to explore how something so awful, like my trials and Terry’s slating process, could be introduced and the reasoning behind that. What I really love about Terry’s book is the science included. Slated explores wiping someone’s brain completely and giving them a blank slate. Her other books explore things like dark matter, think tanks (literally, the brains are in tanks), and global warming. Slated is where I started and is a series I read every year. While the subject matter is dark, it has become a comfort series, and Kyla a comfort character, for me. 

I am a huge fan of Oliver Jeffers. I find his artwork and expression so creative and fun. Even the simplest spread can look so beautiful. With every turn of the page, while the kids are enjoying the story, I am captivated by his artwork.

I love it when my kids pick this book to read at night. It also has a fantastic message about taking care of the planet and yourself, which I’m a big fan of.  

Addie Ramirez, the main character of Tumble, is the kind of girl who takes charge of her situation—whether it’s searching for her father or meeting new people or speaking her mind about wrestling.

I felt such a personal connection to Addie; she loves her stepdad, but she still wonders about her father and embarks on a journey to find him and get to know him. And along the way, she meets her wrestling family and learns firsthand how powerful women wrestlers can be.

I loved that readers get to see powerful women in a sport traditionally dominated by men!

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.

No book I’ve read before or since has made me feel seen the way Wendy, Darling does.

Author A.C. Wise perfectly captures the way a person’s past experience can be traumatic, and yet they still cling to it and think of it nostalgically. It felt like the author was inside my head (or I was in hers—but she was able to articulate things I never could). It’s cathartic and emotionally hard-hitting, and the writing is gorgeous. I love that Wendy is far from perfect but loves her found family fiercely and is on a path toward sorting herself out.

And yes, I know that some people don’t think of Peter Pan as a proper fairy tale, but I love this book too much to leave it out.

If you love a smart, self-referential book in the mode of A Series of Unfortunate Events, you will love Adam Perry’s book. Right from the beginning, the book speaks directly to the reader with warnings about what’s ahead: monsters and villains and horrible deaths. But instead of being a Stephen King horror novel for the middle grade set, the book has a fairy tale-meets-Thursday Next vibe. The protagonist, Oliver, steals books from the library, but since no one reads anymore, he’s not overly concerned about his thievery. That is, until he steals a book that is also being sought by the Pribbles, two inventors that have devised a set of goggles to steal the book directly from Oliver’s mind. Mayhem and shenanigans ensue, and it’s all just delightful. 

This is one of the best critical surveys of the relationship between memory and history I have encountered. Geoffrey Cubitt is concerned with memory as both personal and social, along with the various dynamics between them. The book is interdisciplinary in conception and operation, exploring how history and memory inform one another in complementary and contradictory ways, and how both cross and re-cross varying scales of past/present relations. Regardless of whether readers approach this book from the perspective of memory or history, they will find it a comprehensive assessment of their complex interaction.

It is a truism that Science Fiction dates itself. SF stories that were written only a few years previous often fail to foresee technological innovations ̶ cell phones, GPS, gene-splicing ̶ that seem obvious and inevitable to hindsight-blessed present-day readers. Those disconcerted by such, let us call them “backwards anachronisms,” should find Quantum Thief a welcome relief for decades to come, because the novel is set so far in the future that hi-tech things like, say, cell phones seem quaint curios out of far-distant days of yore. Long-distance communications in Quantum Thief are effected by something more like telepathy (although the word is never used).

“Quantum” is the operative term in this novel, make no mistake.

Be forewarned: Quantum Thief is chock-full of coined terminology. But have no fear. You have a choice. Either use the online glossary - or you can just read for the story and absorb the… show more.