100 Books Like The Lovely Bones

I have been a keen walker/hiker/backpacker since I was five when my parents named a local footpath James’s Path. Almost fifty years later, I have walked all over the UK and further afield in the Pyrenees and the Alps, Nepal, and the Antipodes. Walking for me is both a means to an end—to reach mountaineering routes and as exercise—and as an end in itself. Days spent walking can be reflective, social, demanding, and memorable. I always take a book, even if it's a day walk, and two or three if it’s a multiday trip. I hope you’re as energized and stimulated by my suggestions as I’ve been.

I’ve always been drawn to stories about daughters coming home to complicated mothers and the unfinished versions of themselves they left behind. As an immigrant who moved from India to the U.S. at thirteen, and now as a physician and mother, I live in that in-between space where past and present, duty and desire constantly collide. Reading great novels that explored these tensions was the spark that pushed me to start writing my own. I gravitate toward books where family love is real but messy, home is both refuge and trigger, and women are allowed to be imperfect, angry, tender, and still deeply human.

I came to Montgomery, Alabama, in 1988 to serve as a law clerk for a prominent federal judge (played by Martin Sheen in the movie Selma). I was convinced that the death penalty could be justly administered, and seeing Ted Bundy’s final appeal did little to change my mind. Subsequent cases, however, slowly worked a change in my attitude as I saw an execution’s effect on everyone involved in the process. My passion comes from this behind-the-scenes look at capital punishment in America.

Born to a Tibetan mother and an American father, I was raised in the U.S. As a girl, I wondered why things were always changing: the seasons, people, and places I loved. Growing older, I became fascinated with how to find happiness in a world where nothing lasts forever. After college, I lived in India with my Tibetan grandmother, learning about Buddhist “bardo” perspectives on life’s ephemerality. I realized that though we resist change, accepting impermanence allows us to live happier lives. I publish widely on impermanence and host a Tricycle interview series about bardo, with guests including David Sedaris, Elizabeth Gilbert, Malcolm Gladwell, Ann Patchett, and Dani Shapiro.

I am a lifelong lover of books. As a child, one of my most prized possessions was my library card. It gave me entrance to a world of untold wonders from the past, present, and future. My love of reading sparked my imagination and led me to my own fledgling writing efforts. I come from a family of storytellers, my mother being the chief example. She delighted us with stories from her childhood and her maturation in the rural South. She was an excellent mimic, which added realism and humor to every tale. 

I am passionate about this topic for two main reasons. The first is the narrative skill required to write a story with or from the perspective of a fully-formed, believable child character. I admire this skill, and I think it is deeply important, which leads me to my second reason. Stories about children in need, danger, and overwhelming burden are deeply moving and are a quick way into another person’s perspective. While one may be able to brush away the experiences of adults, and, importantly, justify this dismissal, the child begins in a position of sympathy and vulnerability, which automatically triggers a reader’s care. 

I’m a writer, a teacher of writers in the MFA program at Stony Brook Southampton, and one of the founding directors of the novel incubation program, BookEnds. In the course of a year, I read as many as 125 novels. It can be tiring on the eyes, but I really love what I do. And each year, I make sure to return to some of my old favorites, the books that keep giving back to me more and more with each reading. Some of these books were tough to love at first, but over time, they’ve become the most important, loved novels in my library. Not everything or everyone needs to be easy to love!

During my fifth year teaching 7th grade, I found myself repeating the same lessons as prior years, participating in the same club events, marching in the same parades, etc. My students would inevitably reach the end of the school year and move on, while I was forever frozen in 7th grade. Herein my fascination with time loops was born. Over a decade later, I’m now happily teaching high school English while moonlighting as a writer of stories featuring temporal anomalies and time travel. I hope to spread my wings into dystopians and fractured fairy tales in the future, but until then…I may or may not have 22 clocks in my house.

I am a descendant of William Bradford and Myles Standish, of Pilgrim fame. I was raised in a Massachusetts farmhouse where the commission of James Churchill as a Captain in the militia still hangs, signed by John Hancock. I have lived and breathed this stuff since first opening my eyes. My wife, MaryLu, is a retired elementary teacher who helps bring life to the young characters. Together, through the medium of novels they would actually enjoy reading, we seek to inspire American youth with the principles of our founding, so that they may be more effective in preserving and defending them.

Some writers produce historically important novels of our life and times. I’ve always preferred the “smaller,” timeless stories that dig deep into domestic lives and relationships. For me, the best adventures are always the psychological ones. The bond between mothers and daughters is a rich, if perhaps underexplored, source of literary tension. Often fraught and a battle between deep love and debilitating frustration, it’s the stuff of the highest drama. In The Youngster, the daughter and mother have landed in a place of mutual love, which is then tested by extraordinary – and shocking – circumstances.