Books like What My Mother and I Don't Talk About

My obsession with reading began in third grade when I heard an audio version of The Secret Garden and described the plot to my mom, who told me I should bike to our public library and check the book out. Since then, I’ve written two novels, and I teach creative writing and literature classes at the University of Memphis. At the heart of everything I write is the relationship between women connected by blood. My own great-grandmother lived to be 104, and I have a weekly lunch with my own 94-year-old grandmother. There’s nothing like learning what your own mother was like, as told to you by her mother.

I came to the U.S. in my early twenties to pursue a PhD, trading the familiar for the unknown. I am a scientist, an immigrant, and a daughter whose life was irrevocably fractured when my mother passed away in India while I was navigating the demands of graduate school. Grappling with grief, identity, and belonging in a foreign land shaped me to my core. The books on this list, centered on themes of family, loss, and the search for home, resonated with my experiences in profound ways. They offered me hope and a vital sense of connection, and I hope they speak to you just as powerfully.

For my first 18 years, I slept in the same room (opposite my parents) in the same house (116 Monticello Avenue) in the same city (Piedmont) in the same state (CA) in the same country (USA), but soon after leaving for college in Evanston, IL, I pined for elsewhere and ended up peripatetic. That peripateticness plagued me, as a woman/wife/mother. While growing our family, my French husband and I moved: Israel to France to California to New York to Israel to New York to Israel. Finally, in my early fifties, I understood home is more about who you are than where you live. 

I experienced severe trauma at an early age in life, which involved numerous challenges that tested my resilience and inner strength. However, through perseverance, self-reflection, and seeking support, I was able to overcome these obstacles and emerge stronger than ever. My experiences have taught me the importance of resilience, the power of healing, and the transformative impact of sharing stories, including the messy ones. I believe that by recommending books that explore these themes, I can inspire and empower others who may be facing similar challenges to find hope, resilience, and a path toward healing.

When my son and son-in-law were getting married back in 2010, my cousin’s four-year-old daughter Emma was excited to be their flower girl. I wanted to buy Emma a book about a flower girl to prepare her for the wedding, but I couldn’t find anything that worked for our situation, since we were having two grooms and no bride—at an otherwise traditional Jewish wedding. Then one day, my cousin called, laughing, and said “Emma said she’s afraid to come to the wedding because of the Ring BEAR!” So I needed to write this for Emma—a story where everything isn’t what the child imagines, but it’s all joyful. 

As a gay man born into an evangelical Christian family, my coming out story was wrought with pain, trauma, and separation from family and loved ones. In the same year I lost my best friend in an accident. My world tumbled and I had to crawl back to a place of reckoning. Walking became my path to healing. So when my brother Reuben, who has Down's syndrome sent me a message from the isolation of a care home in the pandemic, I knew he was in trouble. Those five words - ´brother. do. you. love. me.´changed our lives. I thought I might know a way to save him.

I'm a mother, and at one time, I was a single mother going through a very bitter divorce. I know what it's like to panic that your child will be in an accident, or that the other parent will kidnap the child (even if observers would say I'm overreacting). Looking back, my experience as a mother has permeated both my fiction and nonfiction writing in unplanned ways. Why does my second novel start with a mother kidnapping her own daughter? Why does the subtitle of my fourth nonfiction book cite "Parenting and Other Daily Dilemmas in an Age of Political Activism"? 

I'm a wife, mother, writer—and the mother of a disabled non-verbal thirty-three-year-old man. I'm also Black and a Christian, both of which can be problematic to many readers. I write fantasy and mainstream stories, Christian and non-Christian. Some fantasy readers have certain fears, stereotypes, and expectations of fantasy books written by minorities. Others have those same fears, stereotypes, and expectations of books written by Christian writers. I'm very good at accommodating my readers. For the most part, my readers never feel as if they’re being preached at or lectured. Some aren’t even aware that I'm Black or a Christian, even though my concerns—imperialism, injustice, spirituality, ethnicity, disability, and feminism—are throughout my stories.

I'm a picture book author living in Los Angeles with my husband and two children. I love seeing the world through my children’s eyes and began writing stories for and inspired by them after they were born. Watching their relationships flourish with their grandparents and the grown-ups in their lives inspired me to write books that celebrate family and foster connection. My grandmas both live overseas and I treasure the time I spend with them. Just like my own children, the simplest moments together are the ones I hold onto and carry with me the most. I love books that celebrate these magical relationships and hope these books encourage readers to celebrate their own relationships.  

I’m a clinical and developmental psychologist, a parenting researcher at the University of Queensland, and a mother. My research is focused on applying and commitment therapy (ACT) to parenting including the parenting of children with neurodevelopmental disabilities. I wrote Becoming Mum while becoming a mother for the first time. In fact, much of the book was written while I cuddled my new baby, my laptop propped up on my knees so I could write! I am also the first author of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy the Clinician’s Guide to Supporting Parents. It is the first clinical manual on using ACT with parents.