Books like You Can't Say You Can't Play — picked by fans

Are you like me? A people pleaser? So concerned about what the other person is feeling that I’m not even aware of my own feelings? Then this book is for you. Don’t be put off by the awkward title; it’s not about high-IQ kids. The drama is the way children must hide their true selves to please their parents; the gift is the ability to suppress our own needs.

Miller writes, “There are many children who have not been free, right from the beginning, to experience the very simplest of feelings, such as discontent, anger, rage, pain, even hunger—and, of course, the enjoyment of their own bodies.”

I feel that! Miller explains how therapy can help us confront and heal from that rage and pain. I get mad and cry every time I reread this book.  

If you have read a parenting book or taken a parenting course in the last sixty years, chances are you have been influenced by the wisdom of Haim Ginott, even if you didn’t realize it.

He and his students, including the authors of How to Talk So Children Will Listen, set the groundwork for what is known today as connection parenting, conscious parenting, gentle parenting, playful parenting, and authoritative (but not authoritarian) parenting.

When my mom passed away and I looked through her books, I saw she had a first edition of Between Parent and Child, first published when I was a young boy.

When I read it, I felt a strong flash of recognition about the way she raised me. Ginott gets children, and he gets parents.

Korczak was a pediatrician, an educator, a champion of children’s rights, the director of orphanages, and much more.

He said, “A child has a right to grief, even if it is for the loss of a pebble.” And he knew about grief.

He cared for orphans in the Warsaw Ghetto, and he accompanied the children to a concentration camp, even though he was offered the chance to escape.

He said, “They children will be scared without me there with them.” He marched with them to the train, carrying a green flag, which was the symbol of his beloved character King Matt, a child king who tried to unite all the children of the world in peace.

He did not survive, but we are very lucky to have his writings. He is my biggest hero, and my biggest inspiration.

I read every Nicholson Baker book as soon as it arrives, and not just because I knew him before he published his first short story.

My favorite novels of his explore what it is to be a thinking (and sometimes, overthinking) human being.

In The Everlasting Story of Nory, he applies his wit and wisdom to the mind of a nine-year-old girl, and he captures beautifully what that time of life is like.

This little book from 1973 made me realize I wrongly believed that all technological advancement was progress. Why should it be? With every invention that promises to make life easier, ask this question, says Illich: "Will this make me a more independent, capable human being? Or will human qualities be made obsolete?"

In the Middle Ages, people built cathedrals without burning fuel. We have since lost this ability. Is that progress? Ivan Illich introduces the concept of radical monopolies: industrial processes that make non-industrial activities impossible. "Cars can [...] monopolize traffic [...] practically ruling out locomotion on foot or by bicycle in Los Angeles." Likewise, funeral systems rule out the possibility of burying a loved one ourselves.

Illich is a radical philosopher of thin books, best read slowly.

Set in the 19th century New England social landscape of transcendentalist educational trends, this is an important book about women, misogyny, education, and ‘western’ medicine. The landscape here is a farmhouse outside a New England village where the patriarch social philosopher and teacher has started a school for girls following the death of his wife. His grown daughter is his helper, and you see where I’m going with this…also his prisoner. She is vulnerable by her sensitive nature and by her lack of worldly education. When other girls come to board at the new school and other teachers, men, arrive to practice the educational theories they have developed in a fervor of advancing just how women’s education should evolve, the young women respond variously to these new influences. The remote landscape, again, keeps them from freedoms that might improve their awareness. There are also magical trees, birds, and a… show more.

This book gets to the DNA of what young children need: the time and the ability to think freely away from the electronic screens that try to dominate their lives.

I was constantly reminded of the herculean efforts of my children in getting their kids, my grandkids, outside to play and away from their iPads, video games, and TVs.

The Merry Spinster falls into my big bucket of fairytale retelling faves, but it hardly sticks to tradition: rather than simply following old plots, Lavery draws on the tone and style of classic fairy tales to create a gender-warped world where daughters use he/him pronouns and mermaids are sort of, but distinctly not, girls. Even better, the playful attitude towards gender now seems to foreshadow Lavery’s own coming out and transition, both occurring after he published this book—something that fills me with a special kind of trans-author love. Reading this for the first time, I had the sensation of slipping pleasantly into an utter dreamworld of gender/sexuality beauty, like a warm bath: I recommend you fall in, too.

A beautifully written book that brings the magic of the Irish Wolfhound to the reader.

This collection of fairy tales and poems invites us into the mystical world where the Wolfhound was king. A heartwarming tribute to the enormous heart of this gentle giant. It speaks to the soul of anyone who has met one of these loving, kind creatures. I could read it again and again.

Gaslamp books not only have adorably fun titles, they also can push fairy tale retellings to have more creatures as part of the main cast. Erin Verse’s debut is Labyrinth inspired with a mixed-race heroine fighting for justice. Which you’ll quickly see is my favorite type of protagonist. While humans can be loveable, I think it’s through monsters we often learn to accept ourselves.