100 books like A Wish After Midnight

Markus Zusak’s book is definitely not for the faint of heart or those easily bored: its narrator is Death, and the book is over 500 pages long. Not really the kind of book you’d think of for those aged 12 and up (as it’s listed). But it is one that really ought to be universally read.

The book follows two young children battling for survival in Nazi Germany. Entropy hangs in the air like Death’s shadow. Life’s harsh realities—like evil, heartache, pain, and mortality—are ever-present. In Max's (the young boy) dreams, he is boxing with Hitler and lands a punch, knocking the Fuhrer down, but soon he’s overtaken by the crowd.

This is one of the reasons I appreciate this book: winners sometimes lose; bad things happen to good people. And yet, the response to this existential injustice isn’t to become a mere survivor, victim, or martyr. It’s to… show more.

When I first read Fever 1793—set in Philadelphia during a yellow fever epidemic—I thought it was a well-written and thought-provoking glimpse into how people would respond in a crisis. After re-reading it post-pandemic, I would now add “prophetic.” Mattie is a typical grumpy teen who would rather have fun than work in her family’s coffee house. But there is a deadly fever rapidly spreading through the city. Desperation unleashes her inner strength, allowing her to prevail over disease, fear, food shortages, unscrupulous thieves, and well-intentioned but poorly-managed medical science.

This is somewhat science fiction, but more of an alternate historical fiction novel. This is the first in the Lady Astronaut series. It starts off with a bang, literally, when a meteorite hits Earth in 1952. This meteorite destroys much of the east coast and sets off a ticking time bomb where Earth will no longer be habitable in a matter of decades. Now there is a full effort to colonize space so humans can find another home. Women who were once thought not able to become astronauts are now able to vie for spots in the Astronaut Corps along with their male counterparts. I love science history and reading about the women “calculators” of this area (Katherine Johnson, Rear Adm Grace Hopper, etc.). So if there’s a space adventure set in this era, count me in!

This is a great book about a young girl named Esperanza living a good life on a ranch in Mexico when she and her mother are forced to leave the country after family tragedy strikes. They go to the US during the Great Depression and have serious financial problems that they never had to deal with before. When she lived in Mexico, they had servants to do everything for them, so living in poverty in the US is a major adjustment. She doesn’t even know how to use a broom! This kind of detail makes for an interesting saga about a young lady overcoming obstacles to survive. 

This book was originally published in 1930 and also goes back a long way in my own life as well. I have fond memories of my father reading this story to me when I was young, acting out all the parts of the story, using different voices, and more. Despite being little and unassuming, the Little Blue Engine uses hope and belief to get over the mountain. Without belief in ourselves we often can’t even begin to try, but the Little Blue Engine chose to trust in himself and it paid off - big time. We can all use a little more belief in our own abilities to create massive change in our lives.

Edward Tulane is a vain, selfish, coldhearted toy rabbit. And, except for the toy rabbit part, I am Edward Tulane. That’s why I needed this book.

Whilst the family is on the Queen Mary, Edward is cast overboard, like Jonah. Outside the bosom of his family, Edward is largely unloved and disrespected. Through many trials and tribulations, he is reunited with his family. It’s classic Odyssey territory, except that Edward’s trials broaden his perspective and enable him to appreciate – and, yes, love – those who love him.

Edward may be merely a toy rabbit, but he stands in for all of us who need to die in order to live.

An orphan with no home or money of her own, Katharine is her aunt’s pawn, sent to do all her dirty work. As the story opens in 1852, it’s to undertake the unthinkable—have her child-like Uncle Tulman committed to an asylum. While this novel doesn’t employ ‘magic’, I love Victorian-era stories and this one had numerous intriguing threads: Katharine’s innocent, genius uncle created fantastical mechanical inventions, many characters to root for who didn’t quite ‘fit’ the society’s norms, and a maze of a house with mysterious, suspicious happenings. I could see no way for poor Katharine to save her uncle and his protective community, so the story twists thrilled me.

Neither Dogger nor Shirley Hughes will need much introduction to lovers of children’s picture books… it’s a well-established classic by one of the world’s best-known author/illustrators. Dogger isn’t specifically about bereavement, it’s about the broader subject of ‘loss’ – in this case, of a toy – which can be a great place to start a conversation with a child and explore the wider concept of loss in a less direct or traumatic way.

I love books that show children (and adults) how to get along with others who look and live differently from them.

The relationships in the Pooh stories go well beyond a bear and a boy. The other characters are more than just different animals—each has a unique personality. There are many Pooh picture books to choose from, but I like the classic version.

I was thinking of Winnie-The-Pooh when I wrote my series. Not the specific stories or characters but the tone of the stories and the feelings they evoke. As a child, the Pooh stories fostered curiosity, calmness, and kindness. Read any Pooh story and see if you, too, feel the zen.

Shepard’s roughly-hatched illustrations are a symbiotic match for the scruffy charm and humour of Milne’s stories.

Only a couple of chapters feature snow, but they loom so large in my imagination—Pooh and Piglet following their own footsteps in search of the legendary Heffalump; and building Eeyore’s new house at Pooh Corner to shelter him from the snowstorm (unwittingly using Eeyore’s existing house as their source of wood).

As Eeyore gets buried in the snow, I can feel the cold wind with each economical scratch of Shepherd’s pen nib.