62 books like A Single Shard

I immediately fell in love with Cassie Logan, the spunky, resourceful main character in this classic novel. But by the end of the book, I had as much affection for her courageous mother, Mrs. Logan, a teacher who, in depression-era Mississippi, runs a school for African-American kids.

Among her pupils are some her own children, which I know from personal experience can be complicated. Of all the powerful themes in this book, an important, but often overlooked one is the power of teachers and schools to build community and respect for self and others.

Readers should know this book, written by a Black woman based on her childhood experiences, uses strong racial epithets, and young readers could benefit from thoughtful discussion with an adult.

I first read this book as a kid, and it’s one of the reasons I became an avid reader. It's set in Puritan New England and features romance, intrigue, and suspense. It has great historical detail, a fun story, and well-written characters.

The protagonist, 16-year-old Kit from Barbados, arrives in the harsh world of early colonial Connecticut and doesn’t fit in—and society punishes her for it! I found myself angry and outraged for her–I just wanted everything to be fair. This story is a light-handed look at how life isn’t fair. Frustration comes from expecting or demanding it to be. There will always be circumstances and people making things difficult. Can it be endured? Yes!

I love the main characters, Kit and Nat (the son of the boat Captain who brought Kit to the colonies). They are cute together. This is still one of my favorite books.

There’s nothing I love more than a book about a gutsy girl.

Calpurnia, 11 years old in 1899, has to fight to learn natural science against her family’s expectations of becoming a good little housewife. My favorite part of this book is Callie’s relationship with her Granddaddy, a cantankerous Civil War veteran who also happens to be a passionate amateur naturalist. He encourages and sticks up for her as she learns what she yearns to know. 

For me, these two co-conspirators’ search for a new species captured the romance of science–the dream of contributing something new, the joy of the hunt, the collaboration with those who share your passions, and the beauty of even the smallest plant.

In 2014, I was on the Phoenix Award Committee of the Children’s Literature Association, given to a book published twenty years prior that didn’t get a major award when it first came out. We decided to give the Phoenix to Jesse, published in 1994 by Gary Soto, about a seventeen-year-old who works in the fields with his brother while putting himself through junior college. I love the book for all the reasons in the committee’s description: "Jesse is both a coming-of-age story of one Mexican-American boy with a poetic sensibility and the story of a community and a country at a difficult time—facing poverty and prejudice and war, problems we are still facing today. Jesse offers an unembellished slice of life in Vietnam-era Fresno, California.” 

If you want to learn about a time or a culture, I think an excellent way to start is to consult a primary source. Since I was setting my novel in the 16th century during the Japanese invasion of Korea, I wanted to learn as much as I could firsthand. This diary, written by Korea’s most famous admiral, is rich with cultural information and personal anecdotes. Admiral Yi Sun-Shin is a legendary war hero—brilliant, brave, and scrappy—whom Koreans compare to Admiral Nelson of the British Royal Navy. As I wrote my novel, I was inspired by the words of a man who accomplished greatness despite political intrigue and palace traitors, and who defeated a Japanese fleet that outnumbered his forces by 333 ships to 13. 

An easy and enjoyable way for me to learn about a culture is through its art. I spent hours meandering through museums and cultural sites in South Korea. What’s cool about this book is that you can do all that from the comfort of your favorite chair. This book is specific to a period of two hundred years—1400 to 1600, which happen to be the years I’m interested in. So often the Joseon era cultural books focus on the 18th century, so I was happy to find a book for the earlier years of the dynasty.  

Just as art offers invaluable insight into traditional culture, so does writing. Maybe I’m biased, but I think literature provides a more exact view than any other art form. I enjoy indulging myself in the mythology and poetry of this book, especially the poetry of the Joseon era. Early Korean Literature introduced me to the traditional poetic form called Sijo, which is both beautifully simple and incredibly complex. Some of my favorite examples of sijo McCann includes are from the famous kisaeng courtier Hwang Jin Yi. Her soulful poems so inspired me that I tried my hand at writing my own sijo—so much harder than it looks!—and included one in my novel. 

Because I have a mudang (Korean shaman) in my novel, I wanted to research everything I could about the shamanic tradition. Among the many sources I read, this one stands out as both informative and approachable. Shamanism in Korea is an ancient religious form, yet the custom is still honored in modern Korea, and people consult mudangs for business or personal advice even today. Laurel Kendall, a cultural anthropologist, takes readers on a journey into the lives of these remarkable women as they consult with ghosts, dispatch malign spirits, and offer advice and comfort to families. I am a believer in the power of women, especially women who navigate a patriarchal society,    

I love A.B. Abrams as a writer because he can look at a subject and see what others have failed to see. I read his book only after completing my own, and I’m sorry I missed it. Immovable Object tells a fascinating story, recounted in few other places, of how North Korea has not only helped other peoples fight for national liberation but has achieved what no other post-colonial country has ever accomplished: the ability to stay the hand of an aggressive US empire by developing a credible retaliatory nuclear threat.

I didn’t even know that indentured servitude to the police could be a thing for young women. Sure, sure, we’re talking about another place, another era—1800s Korea—but the immediacy with which Hur tells this story puts it right there for me. 

She weaves exacting detail and information throughout this gripping mystery: If the premise didn’t already hook me, I’d be pulled in by the way this mystery rapidly turns personal for Seol, our heroine.