100 Books Like The Rock Maiden

History is not only about famous people and kings and queens; it’s about all people, and how all lives were lived. This book presents one of the many remarkable people who live unremarked amongst us. It’s about the first woman to ride a motorcycle around the world, alone. That anybody can undertake such an adventure is something all children should know. That a woman did it deserves to be emphasized. But what I love best is how this story is told. The writing is lyrical, dreamy, and captures for me the magic carpet ride of travel. And I love how it’s interspersed with practical tips in high contrast—about how to change a tire, how to drink tea in India. The illustrations enhance the vibe. This book is a fabulous ride. 

This was the book that started my lifelong interest in history, and that led to my present career as an author of historical fiction and nonfiction for children and adults. I received it as a Christmas present when I was ten or eleven, and I can still remember poring over the varied characters this book presented—albeit all British—and being transported in both time and place away from my bunk bed. This book ignited not only a love for history by showing me that history was made up of human stories, not just dates and battles; it also ignited a love for reading and writing because of the warmth, cadence, and accessibility of its prose.

Closely related to my love for history is my love of mythology—the boundary between the two is porous. This book started that love. There have been many books published that present the Greek myths to children, and this book is not considered one of the classics, but because it was my favorite book when I was six, I have never found another version better. I love the illustrations and how stylized they are. They capture the myths’ mystique, yet you can always see the human. I was clutching this book in the back seat of my family’s car when my mom announced that we would be getting a baby brother. As I was reading about Jason and the Golden Fleece, I suggested Jason as a name. It stuck!

Back to pure history! At one point, I was the founder and publisher—the Head Goose—of Goosebottom Books. Of all the books we published, this title is my favorite. Gretchen Maurer, the author, did a great job of presenting a very complex and nuanced story in a way that makes it human and understandable to young readers, without side-stepping the facts. The book design and illustration are remarkable and evoke the rich Tudor aesthetic. But what I love most about this book is that it presents the antihero to my childhood hero, Elizabeth I of England, and raises the question: just how fair was history? One of these two sisters became known as Bloody Mary, the other as Good Queen Bess. Did they fully deserve those reputations?

This is a one-story picture book from another great storyteller, Eric Maddern, with fantastic illustrations by Paul Hess.

I love this clever, funny folktale and have often told it to festival and school audiences. The text is elegant and easy to read for ages 7 plus, but younger children will enjoy having it read to them. The humour in the tale is brilliantly portrayed in Paul Hess's colourful, amusing pictures. Look out for the three blind mice.

As with most folk stories, the meaning or moral of the tale is shown through clever wit and riddle-like logic. This story has a particularly surprising and satisfying end.

Writers often ask, “What if I don’t know what really happened?” Memory is so slippery that many writers trip up with self-doubt. Here’s when I turn to Maxine Hong Kingston. Unable to hunt down the facts, Kingston instead revels in speculation: Maybe this is what happened, or maybe this. She might not know why her pregnant aunt drowned herself in the family well, but she sure as heck knows the impact of her aunt’s story on her family dynamics.

This is an exceptionally smart rendering of emotional truth regardless of facts, and as such, signs a permission slip for memoir writers. We can let our DNA speak. We can speculate on the page without having to pin down the facts. Speculation can become part of the story.

This book stands out because it delves deeper into popular characters that appear repeatedly in similar books. I have also enjoyed coming across new names and places not previously found. But far from being obscure names, I have encountered these in Chinese fantasy dramas.

Best of all, it includes pictures of relevant artwork and museum artifacts. I get to see these without having to travel to the four corners of the world. Giving us a sense of where we are in place and time, these displays show that throughout the long Chinese history, these legends and myths are integral to the lives of Chinese people.

This is my favourite book to read to children about honesty. It illustrates why it is good to tell the truth.

Often books focus on the negative aspects of lying. My research shows that it is important to show there are positive consequences for honesty.

In this book, the Emperor gives a seed to each child in the kingdom, proclaiming, “Whoever can show me their best in a year’s time, shall succeed me to the throne!”. The boy, Ping, plants his seed but it does not grow and he has nothing but an empty pot. He truthfully presents his failure. It turns into a triumphant end when his honesty (even as others are dishonest) is rewarded.

The artwork is delicate and the text simple, but powerful.

Historical records of the Chinese immigrant experience in the West are sparse or non-existent. Much has been erased. Yet powerful stories are there for the telling. Zhang begins this gripping novel in a politically troubled China where a young girl is kidnapped and trafficked to San Francisco for the brothels there. She escapes, but her American journey has only just begun. Wending its way from China to California to the rough-and-tumble mining towns of Idaho, where the Chinese are viewed with swelling suspicion, this novel is dramatic, beautifully imagined, and heart-rending. Its portrait of Lin Daiyu, who seeks only safety and independence, is beyond compelling. The book also features a remarkable (and remarkably fierce) ghost. And who doesn’t love a ghost?

This is an exquisitely-arrayed anthology of translated contemporary Chinese horror and has a hearty share of corpses, self-harm, graphic violence, torture, and all manner of physical and psychological abuse.

It’s a culturally immersive miscellany that draws attention to marginalised humans and non-humans in subversive activism that breaks a circle of silence through clever use of mythology, folklore, and superstition.