74 books like A Seed in the Sun

I absolutely fell in love with the spunk of Mexican American tween Malú when I first picked up this amazing book!

Her love of punk rock and her subsequent discovery of the genre’s connection to her Mexican roots, her desire to be accepted by her mother and her new schoolmates—just as she is, and her fight against her school to allow everyone there to express themselves as authentically as they can had me rooting for her at every page. Oh, and did I mention the super fun zine drawings?

This story made me both sad and hopeful, which is why it’s made this list. I found Pandita’s struggle to come to peace with the death of her mother really moving, especially when she turns her grief into advocating for a cause that she truly believes in.

Perkins’ writing is exquisite, and the themes of preserving and respecting the past while adjusting to and addressing the needs of the future are very relevant today. Seeing Pandita slowly find her voice is also oh-so inspiring. 

This sequel to From the Desk of Zoe Washington shines a light on a topic I haven’t read about in children’s literature: the reintroduction of former prisoners into society. Author Janae Marks approaches it through the POV of a very relatable and determined heroine, 12-year-old Zoe Washington.

I loved how Zoe worked through her own misconceptions and biases around this sensitive topic, then turned around to help her former prisoner father fulfill his dreams of running his own restaurant by advocating for his rights through her podcast. Plus, reading this book made my mouth water as I imagined all the yummy food her exonerated father wanted to cook in his new restaurant.

Lupe Wong needs to get straight A's in order to meet her favorite baseball player, but it’s a losing battle against the horror of square dancing for gym class! I loved how full of humor, heart, and conviction the sports-loving Lupe is, and I connected with Lupe’s struggles as she tries to fight her school, only to discover what’s actually worth fighting for—and what she’s truly capable of accomplishing.

There’s also a wit to Lupe that I found immensely appealing, and I laughed out loud at her sharp observations about adults, kids, and the state of the world she’s fighting to change.

When I was researching my book, I spent hours and hours in the National Archives and the Library of Congress, poring over the records of the Federal Writers’ Project. But I turned up few documents that offered as much insight into the FWP as this absorbing novel from 1941. Its author, Jack Balch, worked for the project in Missouri—one of the most dysfunctional and tumultuous outposts anywhere in the country. His thinly fictionalized account describes how the project’s idealistic workers came up against the machinations of a local political machine and, eventually, went out on strike. Balch’s memories, and his anger, are still fresh as he takes stock of both the FWP’s promise and the obstacles it faced in carrying out its mission. 

I first discovered this book as a kid in my early twenties. It was the first novel to really blow my mind, to make me realize just how powerful the written word could be, how simple words on a page could so entirely engage the senses. It was, I tell you, an epiphany. 

Loggers in Oregon. A union strike. A stubborn, independent family. Nothing was complex about the plot, but the characters stepped out of the book and wandered around my bedroom like I’d taken hallucinogens. Their attitudes and emotions poured out from between the covers. The growl of chainsaws filled my ears, and the smell of gasoline filled my nostrils. Grease and woodchips somehow found their way under my fingernails.

An out-of-body experience. Breathtaking.

When I read this book, I knew plenty about Martin Luther King’s ties to the labor movement. What I did not know—and what it took Honey twenty years to piece together—was an understanding of the 1,200 workers whose desperate straits and courageous creative nonviolence called King to Memphis in 1968. Honey uncovers the small triumphs hidden from view if we only look at the large tragedy of King’s assassination. Sanitation workers fought for safer working conditions, adequate wages, and trade union recognition from a city administration that literally treated them like garbage. A labor dispute transformed into a nonviolent community revolt. I remain in awe of the book’s richly textured portraits, among them Reverend Ralph Jackson, a peaceful protester brutalized by police, who forged a "campaign to end police brutality and improve housing, jobs, wages, and education across the city."

I’ve always been a sucker for a good labor strike.

But a labor strike of Black women in the South—only a decade removed from slavery—demanding dignity, equality, and a living wage so they could simply “enjoy their freedom” in a region where a rich, white, slaveholding regime was just recently toppled? That’s next-level stuff.

Hunter tells the story of this Black female majority who worked in domestic labor in the years following the Civil War. Can you imagine going to work as a wage-earning domestic laborer in the home of your former owner? And then collectively organizing to demand that “freedom” actually means something in this godforsaken region?

Come for the organized labor protests. Stay for the moment these women pack their bags and move to the North seeking the joy and pleasure they deserve.

The most gaping hole in most people’s knowledge of American history is labor history. Everyone knows the wars and the civil rights movement, but few people know the bloody, grinding struggles that went into giving us all the eight-hour workday and basic protections on the job.

Erik Loomis’s book builds a coherent vision of how major strikes have shaped this nation every bit as much as better-known movements have. This is one book that will open your eyes to the battles that went into many things we all take for granted.

The title of this book hooked me right out of the gate: Brave Girl. I knew it was a story for me. How could it not be? Young Clara Lemlich stood only 5 feet tall, but she was a spitfire. Her story will inspire boys and girls alike when they learn how she fought for equality, raising her voice against powerful factory owners in the early 1900s. Another reason this book is such a treat is that it was illustrated by Melissa Sweet, one of the most creative children’s book illustrators around. The art in this book is a feast for the eyes!