100 Books Like The Birds and Other Stories

I have read this book more times than I have read any other book, and on my seventh read, I think I finally figured it out. I love a book that keeps you guessing, that keeps you wondering what’s real and what’s an illusion, and in this short novel, Henry James achieves just that. Are the ghosts real? Is the governess going insane?

James makes both possibilities equally likely—and equally frightening. My favorite ghost stories and horror novels are those that are ”about” something beyond the surface-level plot, and James creates a subtle queer sub-theme that is another reason why I keep reading this book again and again… 

This is the book that taught me how powerful loneliness can be.

Every time I return to it, I feel one character’s ache settle into me, that desperate want to belong somewhere, even if it’s a house that doesn’t love you back. I recommend it because it still feels as if I’m attempting to figure out what is happening alongside the characters, the way only great writing can.

Jackson makes you realize that the scariest hauntings aren’t in the walls, they’re the ones we carry within us.

Montague Rhodes James, dean and provost of King’s College Cambridge, read this tale at the College Christmas gathering in 1903. James’ ghost stories often involved traditional scholars – confirmed bachelors, rather like himself. The bleak East Anglian landscape plays a significant role and here a Professor takes time off to play golf and get on with some writing at a seaside resort. He finds a strange bronze whistle in a ruined round church site. There is a second bed in the rented room at his boarding house. 

I love the thrill that M.R. James describes as "pleasant terror," but his tales are often much darker. He unveils an uncanny sexual horror in the images that haunt this terrifying story. I still see them when I close my eyes. 

I read the novel when I saw that Jane Campion had chosen to adapt the book for her latest film. I have nerves of cast iron. But I found this book truly terrifying. The subject is human evil – the sadistic, twisted cruelty of which men are capable, both to animals, and other human beings. The descriptive writing is extraordinary: the ranch, the mountains, and the wild lands of Montana appear before your eyes. The family is almost destroyed by the predatory, violent brother Phil. He is like a Shakespearean villain: magnetic, charismatic, spellbinding, brilliant, and vicious.

Campion softens the edges of the story at every step in her wonderful film. And I can understand why. Had she filmed the book the movie would be banned. Read the book. 

Not only is this book stunning – sculpted paper illustrations that appear 3D – it offers a flock-full of information about birds and the many types of beaks one may find on them. A beak isn’t just a beak, after all. With over 10,000 bird species in the world, it’s not surprising to learn that bird beaks come in many shapes and sizes, each with a specific purpose to a bird’s habitat necessary for survival in this big, wide world. Although geared for young readers, this book will inspire readers of all ages to take notice of bird beaks. Anytime we can encourage young readers to engage with nature and the world around them, that’s a good thing, don’t you think?

We often fail to appreciate the most common birds among us. In contrast, Nobel Laureate Niko Tinbergen celebrates the life of a common beach denizen in this classic book. Tinbergen wrote this book in the 1950s based on his detailed observations of the gulls in their natural habitats. As I read, I am taken to the dunes of the Netherlands where Niko spent his life. I can hear the cries of the gulls as they greet their mates, defend their turf, and raise their young. Tinbergen’s life of observing and experimenting is laid before me as he describes the postures and calls that form the gulls’ communication system. I come away from my read knowing a lot about gulls and even more about a brilliant scientist’s mind.

This 1970 novella transported me into a world of seagulls, how they live and how they fly, and one, Jonathan, who decides to be different, to defy conformity, to go further and faster, like my own striving for something more, for experiences beyond the mundane.

I never thought I’d identify with a seagull, but this wonderful bird’s world view is exactly the same as that of anyone who sees more than what’s just in front of them.

Everyone needs a good friend and often when we make a new friend it invites others into our lives as well. This sweet rhyming book teaches a great lesson about what makes a good friend—and it’s not because they look just like you and like doing all the things you like doing—but revels in the differences that make each friend unique and celebrates the things friends do share in common. 

This memoir was written in 1955 but its wisdom is evergreen because, nearly seventy years later, it’s still very difficult to be a woman.

We are many things to many people and it’s easy to lose ourselves in that swirl of activity and to-dos, which is precisely what happened to me. Depression and anxiety had reading off limits to me for a time, and this was the kind, gentle book that brought me back to the page, the one that said, Yes, yes.

That’s how it is, to love. It’s hard, not because you’re doing it wrong, but because you’re doing it right.

I watch these oil rigs blow up, I bear witness to birds smothered by oil slicks, and I am paralyzed with despair. But Luis Sepulveda finds hope, and he finds it with two animals who, in my back yard, would be natural enemies: a cat and a seagull. He finds, not only hope, but also reasons to break all unwritten rules. Because life is more precious than money, and hope is stronger than despair. I love the animals in this book. I love them with my whole heart. They’re not super smart or super courageous or super anything. They’re two animals, on a porch in a situation that needs to be solved. And if they can do the impossible, then damnit, I can at least try.