100 books like Becoming a Good Creature

Facts matter to kids, of course, and library shelves groan with attempts to distill climate causes and effects down to child-sized volumes. For middle graders, visual encyclopedia-style nonfiction can work well, covering broad ranges of information from atmospheric chemistry to statistics on carbon emissions sources in photo-rich chunks. 

But I’ve seen younger readers wince at graphic pictures of bleached coral or violent wildfires. Pen and acrylic drawings soften this book’s approach, supporting student learning by avoiding traumatic imagery. The polar bear theme draws readers in yet gradually widens to encompass people and places affected near home.

My special kudos for spreads that explain scientific concepts, like the greenhouse effect, with accurate prose and illustrations abounding with life. 

As a lifelong biography reader and sometime biography writer, I planned to recommend one of the many fine children’s works about Swedish activist Greta Thunberg. The teen’s brave protests have sparked an international movement demanding climate action for the sake of today’s and tomorrow’s children.

But this book is even better. Greta’s story launches this collective biography (“Bravely alone, she stood on the Parliament steps of stone. . . But she wasn’t alone for long”), inspiring young people around the world. Fifteen profiled boys and girls are planting trees, collecting compost, raising funds, and packing buses for demonstrations to reduce climate emissions.

By featuring youth leaders from Uganda, Colorado, Indonesia, and elsewhere, the book embodies the global reach of the movement and the reassuring reality that none of us, not even Greta, must face the crisis alone. 

What happens when a cartoonist-television writer and a distinguished earth science professor team up to write about climate change? To me, the result is pure synergy.

Rollicking watercolors and humor-leavened text make hard climate truths accessible and empowering. Yes, the once-climate-unaware protagonist suffers at first as she learns about drought, species endangerment, and other perils accelerating our way.

But knowledge truly is power for the determined heroine, who personifies the kind of persistence and resilience we will all need in the coming decades. She doesn’t claim to have all the answers but insists that together we can find them.

This is the kind of book that changes lives! The spare text and black-and-white sketches convey an inescapable message about climate action: the hope we need comes from us.

As personified by another young heroine, effective action will take resolve (“Rise up!”), imagination ("Think up”), sleepless nights (“Rest up”), and support when we can find it (“Meet up.”) Some solutions may be unexpected, like seed swaps and Little Free Libraries, but they’re not impossible. Plenty of them look like fun.

I don’t know another book that depicts more succinctly how to build the future we want and children deserve: “Show up!”

A lot of us have felt that pang of anxiety, the blood rushing to our head, or the butterflies in our stomach, when we have to make our voice heard and speak up for something we hold dear.

Manatee’s Best Friend is a beautiful story about a girl trying to find her voice while courageously trying to protect the sea creatures she loves. Growing up in Honduras, I always longed to see a manatee in the wild. While that wish is yet to come true, Sylvia Liu’s story inspired me to have hope that perhaps one day I might still get that wish!  

One of the cliches of historical fiction is that it can bring the past to life in a way that factual historical books can’t. If you read the superb City of Beasts you’ll think again! The book studies the many ways in which animals contributed to and shaped eighteenth-century London. History has largely overlooked their presence – but Almeroth-Williams puts them back in all their noisy, smelly, messy, toiling existence. Here, too, are the men and women who worked with them - the drovers, milkmaids, grooms, and pig keepers whose lives don’t often find a place in the history books. If you want sights, sounds, and smells, here they are in plenty. Few books I’ve read, fact or fiction, have given me such a vivid impression of the every day, working life of Georgian London.

Emma Marris is a phenomenal writer; her nature writing has been compared to that of Aldo Leopold and Rachael Carson.

Wild Souls focuses on how people relate to other animals. That might sound like a philosophical topic but it has real world consequences. Her stories will force you to question your own motives and morals when asked to compare one animal to another or define what “nature” even is anymore.

Full of entertaining stories and nutritious food for thought.  

I have two pets cats, and my relationship with them is pretty straightforward—I care for them to the point of being obsessive about meeting their every need. Unlike me, the communities described in this book have a range of relationships with the non-human species they share space with. Care of course, and kinship, but also relationships of conflict and violence. Complex themes such as animal ethics, Hindu nationalism, the politics of exclusion, conservation, and even inter-species love are written about against the backdrop of the everyday lives of the villagers. The binary of domestic cow and the wild bear and the pigs that fall in between are all a part of this narrative of the tangled relationship between humans and animals. For those of us who balk at reading anthropological works, this book is a pleasure and easy read for the relatable style of writing.

Although not nearly as well-known as Richard Adams’ Watership Down (an epic tale, with voyages and battles on the scale of Homer’s Odyssey), this book was published decades earlier and could be seen as a quiet precursor to that far more violent story.

The gardeners among you will immediately recognize both the fear and the excitement that the animals feel when contemplating unfamiliar humans. My wife and I, who have moved dozens of times in our long careers, often quote a line from Little Georgie: “New folks coming, oh my!”

Why Did the Chicken Cross the World? might be the worst title of all time, but it is a wonderfully surprising and fascinating book. There are tasty nuggets here for everyone (sorry/not sorry for the pun). Did you know that Mexicans eat more eggs per capita than any other people in the world? Or how many different slang terms and metaphors there are for chickens through time? (“Biology can’t explain why our favored slang word for the male organ refers to a bird that lacks one.” Ha!) Or that in the mid-nineteenth century, Britain and America were absolutely obsessed with raising exotic “fancy” chickens? And that pound for pound, chicken releases only one-tenth the greenhouse gases of red meat such as hamburgers? Read up on the world’s favorite bird and laugh while you’re at it with Lawler’s book.