100 books like Caddie Woodlawn

Another novel in verse, I loved Rajani LaRocca’s Red, White, and Whole for its emotional complexity.

Though a work of fiction, LaRocca has said that many of the aspects of the book are based on her own experience growing up as an Indian American in the 1980s. In the story, thirteen-year-old Reha straddles two worlds: expected to honor Indian traditions and expectations at home, while fitting into the life of an American teenager at school.

But when Reha’s mother is diagnosed with cancer, Reha must confront more than just her fear of blood. I love this book for the mirrors and windows it provides readers of all ages.

I laughed out loud as I joined this family of twelve children on cramped car trips, through childhood pranks, adolescent rebellion, and through the daily joys and growing pains of a loud and loving family. My dad is one of eleven children and reading this book reminds me of many of his stories about growing up. I especially related to the clatter of dinner time conversation centered around morse code or math games. We never did morse code but we’ve played plenty of math games and word riddles.

I highly recommend this book to every parent. It is filled with gentle, practical wisdom in the setting of a frontier family. The father takes the time to teach through everyday experience and vivid analogies. We use his analogy of the “character house” all the time in our family. The mother has her own quiet strength, which the author shows more in the following books of the series. The book is also filled with the high energy and pranks of children, and the adventures of growing up on a ranch. A lovely true story, though be warned, you will cry at the end.

Though we will never have inside pets because of allergies, my family thoroughly enjoys this true story centered around a family raising two owls (and a variety of other wild animals). This story showed a supportive family as the parents not only endured a continuous round of new pets (including a meal interrupted by one owl dropping a dead skunk on the table) but also assisted Billy in his early zoo-keeping habits. The hilarious slices of life had us in stitches. I especially love the relationship between the owl—Wol—and Billy’s dog.

All Together in One Place had me hooked just by reading the back cover. As I read about Mazy, her somewhat difficult marriage and the tragedy of loss, I found courage and hope. 

All Together in One Place traces the real-life story of a group of people traveling by wagon on the Oregon Trail in 1852. All the men in the caravan die and these women must decide to work with their differences and learn it is necessary to rely on each other in order to survive.

Reading Kirkpatrick’s book taught me about genuine faith and why asking for help is vital. The authentic dialogue and struggles the women have within the pages of history and this book gave me a perspective on life I did not have.

This mystery had all the elements I enjoy—a strong female lead who becomes the village sheriff, a mix of interesting and well-developed characters, a quaint but unusual village— Whispering Pines—that made me long to be there, a good mystery, and a dog as a sidekick.

It’s a paranormal cozy with lots of “witchy” activity that I typically won’t read, but I loved this one! It captivated me from beginning to end.   

While again, it’s not a magical world, it might as well have been. I was transported and transfixed to a different time and place. I could smell the linen baking dry in the sun as it hung in the open air and open fires that crackled and sparked as bacon sizzled on a cast iron pan. I shivered as they woke up one morning covered in a blanket of snow. I tasted the Christmas orange that was received with such joyful excitement. It made me want to like fruit–which, sadly, didn’t stick.

More importantly, it made me recognize the beauty of being grateful for things I took for granted. The mark of a good story is if you want to read it again as an adult, and I’ve read and reread this series more than once.

I’m a sucker for gorgeous prose, Wisconsin landscape as a character, strong female protagonists, small-town community dynamics, and the complexities of found family—Carol Dunbar’s debut novel checks all of these boxes and then some.

I got so excited when I read this book. The prose crackles. The sensory details are vivid. It’s a literary slow-burn with just enough sizzle to keep you turning pages, and I savored every word. What would you do if you were a young wife and mother living off-grid in Northwoods, Wisconsin, and your partner suddenly became incapacitated? Dunbar left me feeling like I now know.

A stunning assembly of archival photographs and newspaper clippings from Jackson County, Wisconsin, in the last decade and a half of the 19th century, and the definitive explanation of why nobody in old-time photographs is ever smiling—and, I choose to believe, the real reason the parts of The Wizard of Oz set in Kansas were filmed in black and white. Economic privation, unceasing bereavement, disease both physical and mental—in other words, Tuesday. Was there any joy in Jackson County? Somewhere, I’m sure. What’s documented here is a stark, powerful beauty. The most real book I’ve ever encountered, and one of two on face-out display on my bookshelves.

I’ve read all of this author’s work and the Rushed series is my favourite because although it’s a sinister paranormal fantasy, it is filled with humour. The world-building for each book is amazing – certainly daunting and nasty in parts, yet believable.

There are remarks in reviews that it’s confusing and weird, so maybe you have to be odd to understand and appreciate it. I did, so I must be.