100 Books Like The Secret Lives of Church Ladies

I read this novel in one sitting because I was so taken by Reid’s portrayal of ‘parent vs. caretaker.’

As teachers, we navigate these challenging relationships every day. Such a Fun Age shows the rawness and imperfection of parenthood alongside the precariousness of taking responsibility for someone else’s child.

I couldn’t possibly leave out Danielle Evans’ story collection when the title novella portrays just the kind of cultural erasure and recuperation I’ve been blathering on about. The protagonist, Cassie, is an obscure federal employee charged with correcting historical inaccuracies and omissions in public places and textbooks. Her mission intersects in Wisconsin with that of an old frenemy as both investigate an arson murder from 1937. Throughout the collection, these stories delight me line by line, with beautifully wrought prose, insight, and wit. Evans tackles fake news and current controversies about race, including fissures within the Black community, while always focusing on the personal dilemmas of her vividly alive characters. I am in awe of her talent. 

The third book is possibly one of the shortest standalone books I have read, but also one of the most powerful.

Toni Morrison’s post-humous work Recitatif is the story of two poor girls, one white and one black, living in a shelter and their lives as adults. They share their past experiences, and unfortunately both witness a disturbing incident while wards of the state.

This book makes my list for best books about cross-cultural interactions because the reader doesn’t know which girl is black and which is white. It unsettles the reader and forces self-reflection, why am I trying to determine the race of these girls and what does that reflect about my own culture?

After some challenges with reading the dialect, I became so intrigued by this heart-wrenching story of two teenage girls, one Trinidadian and one African-American, who come together unexpectedly in cold Minneapolis. I loved learning about their cultures, and I loved how they grew close despite their differences and supported each other through the crises of lost family and childhood cancer.

The language and pace beguiled me as a reader. The girls' viewpoints of their past and present worlds were engaging. I felt the heroism in each of them, one facing death, one trying to reunite with her family.

Pete’s whole life changes the summer the Preacher Man comes to town. Hearing the Man speak fills Pete with purpose. No one understands Pete like the Preacher Man — neither Pete’s parents, who no longer attend church, nor his best friend, who is an atheist — and Pete will do anything to hold fast to his devotion.

I read this short, deceptively simple book twice while working on Miraculous. It is an honest look at the longings and purpose so many of us search for, the power a persuasive individual can have, and the flaws that make us all human. I’ll never forget this book.

I love this book so much, I blurbed it! In a world where women are often asked to be quiet, to make themselves small, Nafiza Azad’s unapologetically feminist book is breathtaking. Readers journey with Paheli and her collection of girls—the Wild Ones—helping to save girls from the pain they had to endure. On their journey, they seek Taraana, a boy with stars in his eyes, who once saved Paheli and now needs saving. While The Wild Ones is a fantasy, it is an unflinching look into the #MeToo movement, the tragedies and pain of being female, the saving grace of sisterhood, and the audacious power of resilience and hope.

Leavitt’s story is a fairytale and like all good fairytales, there is a handsome prince except this one is played by Lord Death himself.

I love Keturah. She is brave enough not to be afraid and big-hearted enough to see beyond Death’s terrifying purpose to the underlying sadness of the feared and hated outsider. Through the course of the book, she also comes to appreciate the meaning he brings to life.

“It was Death who…made her see the sun in the blue sky and hear the trees in a spring wind. He made her see how much she loved her friends…Made her love the breath in her lungs. She knew she had never been truly alive as when she met him. Never so happy and content with her lot until she was touched by the sorrow of him.”

Tin Man weaves the beauty and meaning of Van Gogh’s oeuvre into a background for a story that is written like poetry. Time is a main character who is sometimes kind, but mostly cruel. Separation, loss, and longing are themes that all people can relate to but when seen through the perspective of a character who identifies as LGBTQ+ it heightens and clarifies those human experiences in a way that draws a reader from any background deeper into an exploration of what the passing of time means and the consequences of ignoring the herald of each minute that ticks by.

I love stories crammed with internal strife and triumph in the end, especially ones about finding yourself.

In this YA contemporary, teen Ben faces the worst possible reaction from their parents when they come out to them as nonbinary. Fortunately, they round up some supportive family, but this marks the beginning of a long struggle to build up their confidence and come out to everyone, not just their family. Ben may know who they are, but being honest about it is hard, especially in certain places.

There are big differences in being nonbinary or trans in conservative states versus liberal states, and also between smaller towns and bigger cities. This book reminds readers that as long as you’re safe, being true to yourself is more rewarding than hiding yourself. 

Here is another title I resisted reading (are you sensing a trend?). I think it’s because, being a fifth-generation Florida native, I’m protective of my home state.

While Carl Hiaasen and Dave Barry have mined South Florida for its comic weirdness, Groff brings an almost Gothic element to these short stories, plus lyrical prose and messed-up characters I wouldn’t want to hang with but who absolutely move me.

I felt their yearning. I felt Florida’s humidity and the mosquitoes too. They’re characters unto themselves.