100 Books Like The Fire, the Water, and Maudie McGinn

This book uses the fantastic metaphor of an “upside-down” bat in a world of mammals.

At school, everything she does is perceived as “wrong” because it is different from the world of her classmates and instructor. But Bitsy learns to find joy in her differences and takes initiative to celebrate the strengths of not just herself but her classmates.

This picture book is a great way to introduce readers, young and old, to being neurodivergent in a neurotypical world, as well as how to welcome neurodivergent folks and create a neurodivergent-inclusive space.

Maya, like all of us, is messy. She can be overconfident, inflexible, and unfair to her friends. But she’s also passionate, hardworking, and struggling to cope in a world not built for her.

To some readers, Maya might just seem annoying and selfish—but this is oversimplifying. As an autistic person, I can absolutely see myself in Maya’s black and white thinking, her hurt over things not going as planned, and her struggles to “play the part” as Maya in Public, and to mask.

“Maya in Public” and other stage metaphors show how an autistic person uses their special interests to make sense of the world, and may help allistic readers better understand what it’s like to be autistic. I loved seeing Maya grow and try new things, even if it was uncomfortable, as well as apologize for her mistakes and learn from them.

Maya is a very honest reflection of… show more.

The book tackles so many critical and necessary conversations with such care and thought. 

Some of those topics include racism, classism and class segregation, the stress of excellence and being a “model citizen,” family expectations, ableism and neurodivergent treatment in a neurotypical world, police brutality and power imbalances. The book never feels bloated or didactic.

These topics are all so organically woven into the narrative that they only invite the reader to engage and think about the systems in the world we live in. All the Noise at Once is realistic in the difficult, but also the hopeful.

Aiden and Brandon, and their friends and family, go through so many hard things, but there is also light at the end of the tunnel. There is also joy and humor and a promising future.

Especially in these times, a dose of realistic hope is more important than ever.

This is a speculative novel, asking readers: how might we use technology to replicate loved ones before they pass, so in a way, no one ever has to die? How would we want to remember them? How do we process and avoid grief through technology? And how might technology with an ableist focus create an erasure of neurodivergence?

The novel gives this speculative backdrop but focuses on authentic interactions and a beautiful relationship between the autistic protagonist Cora and her ADHD friend Adrien. The way Cora and Adrien express the pressure a neurotypical society imposes on neurodivergent people is resonant and nuanced. It also does a great job of showing the similarities and differences between autism and ADHD in a compelling way.

I felt like I was on the Truman Show reading this book. With every page turned I knew something was wrong, that something odd was happening but I couldn’t have ever thought in my wildest dreams that what was occurring was the plot twist.

As I found out what was happening along with the main characters, I was shocked.

This book truly made me feel like I was reading a YA version of Don’t Worry Darling, the movie. 

One word: Mr. Jitters. After her filmmaker dad is attacked and nearly killed in New York City, Lola Nox is sent to live with the grandmother she’s never met in an eerie town called Harrow Lake, the shooting location of her dad’s most iconic horror movie. But Harrow Lake is a sinister little town full of strange legends and the locals seem determined to keep it that way. With disappearances that the police shove under the rug and now a ghostly presence that has started following her everywhere, Lola is about to meet the thing that keeps this backwater little town in its firm, creepy grip. This novel reminded me of everything brilliant in The Babadook and Mr. Jitters might even give him a run for his money. 

This is one of those books that’s hard to talk about without giving too much away because the magic is in the twists and turns. At a certain point in reading, I closed the book, letting out a little “oh no” because I’d just realized what was coming, and I was both dreading it happening and couldn’t turn the pages fast enough to get to that scene.

This is very much a car crash-in-slow-motion story. I hated the antagonist. I also knew I probably would have been drawn in by her charisma if I’d met her in real life–beautiful malice is the perfect term to describe her. This book was one that I felt physically, carrying it around for several days afterward as I relived moments in my head.

Secrets and lies always keep me turning the pages and this book has those in spades.

I love that Fisher writes about the kind of women we all know. Her characters are truly relatable and the dilemma of whether Maggie should expose her husband’s lies or protect the people she loves is an agonising one.

There’s so much humour in Fisher’s writing. I love a book that brings out laughter and tears.

An allegedly haunted house, an evil step-sister, an abandoned and rotting town, and distrustful neighbors crowd together in this sharply told story about a girl running from her past. With each page, my paranoia grew until there was no easy way to tell what was real, and what was a red herring. This book was freaky. I was afraid to read it late at night because if I did, my over-active imagination would absolutely torture me with sinister nightmares.

What makes a woman a hero? Irish writer John Boyne’s narrator was a last choice for me—the daughter of a top-ranking Nazi war criminal who carries the burden of her past at 90. But I came to love the voice of this narrator, her brutal honesty with herself and her circumstances, and her growing awareness of her culpability, even as a child, for what happened.

Boyne elegantly explores the question of whether terrible acts by fathers make their children responsible or if children are inherently innocent. The story’s ending was a complete surprise, bringing this character to hero status in my eyes, as she chooses honor above safety.