100 Books Like Take Me With You When You Go

When I was in elementary school, I was poor at writing essays. My mother believed that reading could help to improve my school performance, and started collecting short stories suitable for me. Incidentally, my interest in reading and writing was fostered. I grew older and became passionate about books that led me to see new worlds, to experience lives unknown to me before, and to empathize with other people regardless of race. With hindsight, I realized that all the books I’d read had something in common–that is, love, with its profound meaning and influence on our forever imperfect world, is the eternal theme and always inspiring me.

I’ve become fascinated with the unconventional tumultuous world of the 1920s ever since I discovered my grandmother’s box of mementos that led to my debut historical fiction, Whistling Women and Crowing Hens. The lesser-known parts of our country’s history draw me in, and the potential for strong female characters keeps me writing. Before I fell down many research rabbit holes, I thought the 1920s were just speakeasies, fringed flappers, and bathtub gin—while entertaining, it’s only the “big city” side of this transformative decade. I’ve found I prefer reading what everyday townspeople experienced, or how “normal” women became unexpected heroes, or ways people persevered after the turmoil WWI caused. There are so many undiscovered stories to be told!

I find the seventeenth century fascinating, and both of my novels are set in that period. The century was a time of great flux, and I am especially interested in exploring the kinds of things that women might have done, even though their accomplishments weren’t recorded. There is a wonderful article by novelist Rachel Kadish called “Writing the Lives of Forgotten Women,” in which she refers to Hilary Mantel’s comments that people whose lives are not recorded fall through the sieve of history. Kadish says that, “Lives have run through the sieve, but we can catch them with our hands.” These novels all attempt to do that.

The stories I write are fiction, but I’ve heard hundreds of tales about survival, and family drama. I’m the secret-keeper everyone confides in. From the time I was a teen, friends shared their secrets with me. Later, as a healthcare worker, patients often told me shocking true-life stories. What started these events? How did the victims overcome the horrors? I found their tales fascinating. I invent characters that face nightmarish challenges, and they must use the tools they have to persevere. Just like in real life. My novels shed light on darker, twisted topics. 

Anyone who’s attended high school knows it’s often survival of the fittest outside class and a sort of shadow-boxing inside of it. At my late-1970s prep school in the suburbs of Los Angeles, some days unfolded like a “Mad Max” meets “Dead Society” cage match. While everything changed when the school went coed in 1980, the scars would last into the next millennia for many. Mine did, and it’d thrust me on a journey not only into classic literature of the young-male archetype, but also historical figures who dared to challenge the Establishment for something bigger than themselves. I couldn’t have written my second novel, Later Days, without living what I wrote or eagerly reading the books below.

I’ve always been fascinated with the first-person voice, the way it magically pulls us into a story through the character’s/narrator’s perspective, and how when done well, can feel so natural and personal. I’ve tried to write in this perspective over the years, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. I hope I have done it adequately with this current novel. I wouldn’t say I’m an expert when it comes to the first-person, but I am an interested participant. I am a creative writing professor, but I am also a student of writing and always will be. The more I investigate, the more I read, the more I learn. Focusing on this topic has been no exception. 

I’ve always enjoyed reading true stories and stories that feel like they could be true. I enjoy learning about other people’s lives and experiences. If a character’s life experiences have been very different than my own, it is eye-opening and informative. If we’ve had similar experiences it helps me feel less alone. When writing, I usually draw inspiration from my own life experiences. With AWOL, I wanted to share military family culture and help readers affected by PTSD feel less alone. 

I love fantasy books and I love the wonderful array of British authors out there, so I wanted to showcase some of them in my small selection of books. Some are well known, some less so but all have their own unique and fascinating way of creating fantasy worlds. There are so many good books to choose from but these five are real must-reads as far as I’m concerned.

I grew up loving sci-fi and fantasy, but especially today, I recognize how a lot of older sci-fi is patriarchal or even misogynistic. When I started to write my own books, like A Dragonbird in the Fern, I vowed to create my fantastical settings as I’d like our world to be someday—with all genders considered equal. Whether it’s a queen wielding all of the power or a witch who can save the world, women and girls in my stories get things done, and no one bats an eye. 

Like most, I grew up reading the classic literature assigned to me at school. But what I always found lacking were characters and themes that related to me—a queer, poor, half-Mexican in 80’s rural Texas. I wanted to be a writer at an early age, but took a 15-year detour as an editor at DC Comics, Scholastic, and other big publishing houses. While there, I was proud to find new diverse talent with new perspectives and voices. Stories are magical when they act as windows through which we learn about others, but they can be even more powerful when they act as mirrors in which we can see ourselves.