100 books like Phoenix Extravagant

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. 

Reading this graphic novel just feels good. It’s so positive and full of all kinds of sweet relationships—romantic, friends, and family.

It’s also a fantastic portrayal of numerous people with something that makes them different from most others, including wearing hearing aids, lesbian grandmas, large bodies, and last but not least, being nonbinary. None of these things is an issue in the book, and instead they’re presented as being as normal as breathing.

I just love the normalization of human differences. Add to that the fun urban fantasy elements of magic and werewolves, and it’s a perfect mix.  

It’s always great to get a reminder to be true to yourself when you don’t fit in easily.

This dystopian YA novel has good worldbuilding and a rich lexicon of new words that gives it that idiosyncratic futuristic feeling. The protagonist is a barely fifteen-year-old girl “bender”—someone who doesn’t feel comfortable in their assigned gender and doesn’t hide that. She has been sent to a camp that will determine her future, making sure she doesn’t end up in the “Blight”, a huge concentration camp for society’s undesirables.

But for a good outcome, she must conform, and her fellow campers and new experiences make that confusing and difficult. The ending is fairly open, but she has clearly learned to be true to herself and reject arbitrarily assigned labels.

I loved this nonfiction book because it puts the gender binary in the context of other things that we often falsely consider binaries.

For instance, the mind-body binary is ridiculous when you consider that experiencing emotions is not entirely in the mind, given what we know emotions and stress do to the body, both short-term and long-term. The authors also point out that feelings can be something other than completely positive or completely negative, and that the idea that emotion and rationality, or work and play, are mutually exclusive is absurd.

What makes this book especially good is that it shares practical advice for changing the binary mindset, like avoiding the either/or view by making yourself consider what possibilities are real between two extremes—or in both extremes—at the same time. Marginalized people can use these techniques to avoid judging themselves so harshly, and allies can learn better ways to understand… show more.

On Vincent van Gogh’s death, and the subsequent death of his brother, Theo, six months later, Johanna van Gogh-Bonger – at only twenty-eight years old – became keeper and advocate of Vincent’s immense collection of paintings, sketches, letters, and illustrations. 

Whilst grieving and caring for her infant son, Jo translated those letters. That we are able to read Vincent’s letters and to hear his words add both depth and insight to our appreciation of his art. This book is our chance to connect with a Vincent beyond the tortured artist that contemporary society portrays. These letters are one of Jo’s many gifts to us. 

I’ve been intrigued all my life by the women on my mother’s side of my family who were artists and writers. How did I fit into that familial line, and what could I learn from them?

Honor Moore’s investigation into her artist grandmother’s life drew me into her own examination of that question, and I was deeply moved by her mission of reviving her beautiful, brilliant grandmother’s reputation as an artist while offering an honest assessment of how societal pressures affected her mental health and problems with alcohol abuse. 

Graduating from design school with a BFA and having taught Art Enrichment Classes in the schools for many years, I thought I had read every book about Vincent Van Gogh.

But when I read Heiligman’s young adult novel, I finally knew Vincent and felt his passion, literally through his letters to his brother.

And, truly, is there any better way to learn about Vincent than reading in his own words about his passion to paint?

I was hungry for a great piece of comic writing when a friend handed me this book, and it delivered so much more than laughter.

Once I’d tuned in to the language, I ended up shambling through 30s London alongside impecunious painter Gulley Jimson. A humble man, driven by a holy need to make the sort of art which, it turns out, nobody wants, he encounters a world of squalor and beauty, both physical and moral.

I grew to love him and his daily observations on the play of weather and light on the Thames, which form a sort of sketchbook. As Jimson’s physical health declines, he grips beauty wherever he finds it. Theroux, Lessing, and Updike all rated this author.

For me this is undoubtably the best biography of Francis Bacon.

It illuminates in detail the life of my mysterious and exotic neighbour, who lived only a stone's throw away over the wall from my flat in Manson Place, South Kensington, in the early 1960s.

Bacon's early struggles, to eventually becoming the lauded and celebrated genius in later life, encompass in this fascinating account, a plethora of characters from both high and low life, a cavalcade of lovers, an addiction to gambling and drinking spanning Soho to Tangier, with sojourns in Paris and the South of France on the way. He religiously painted in the mornings.

Many of the episodes and vignettes are unforgettable and a valuable insight into the machinations of the 'art world' in the 20th century.

This compelling and exhausting portrait of the artist, born in Dublin to Anglo-Irish gentry in 1909 and living to the age… show more.

Going to the Vancouver Art Gallery when I was a kid I saw my first Emily Carr painting and it drew me in with its dark beauty.

This book brings to life the story of Emily Carr, a talented painter and (although the word wouldn't have been used then) ecologist. She passionately pursued her art in ways proper young ladies of the time just didn't do. She revered the First Nations people and their cultures. The gift was returned when she received her own honourary name, Klee Wyck (Laughing One) from the Nuu-chah-nulth (Nootka) people.

I love this book because of its honesty, it is about a person and a place, firmly rooted in a love of nature.