36 books like Click, Clack, Moo

Another book about a dog named George! This George is a sweet, well-intentioned dog who is trying very hard to be good. But oh dear, there are so many temptations. Cake! A cat. Some lovely dirt. 

“What will George do?” the book asks. And then comes the page turn. (As you can probably tell from the title, George doesn’t always make the best choices.) The kids will shout, “Oh no, George!” with me and giggle at the silly illustrations that follow, like George happily eating an entire cake. But they can also relate. Sometimes making the right choices can be hard.  

The ending is unexpected and usually starts a lively discussion. I love anything that gets kids talking to each other about books.

This is my all-time favorite read-aloud. And not just because it features a veterinarian! George the puppy’s mom is disappointed with him because he doesn’t bark. She brings him to the vet for help. On each page, the vet asks George to bark, but instead he makes an incorrect animal’s sound. When George “meows” the vet reaches down inside of George and pulls out a… Yes, you guessed it – a cat! Kids can anticipate and call out which animals the vet will extract from poor George on each page turn. Hilarity ensues. And, in the final spread, something completely unexpected and unexplained happens, perfect for a great post-book discussion. This one never fails to captivate a group of kids—which is really why I adore it.

At storytimes, I see firsthand the value of a good page turn. There’s anticipation. And excitement. And…then…the…page…turns… Oh! Is there a surprise? Something funny?  

Everybody Says Meow has the best page turns. The story starts with a cat talking to the reader. He’s standing with his cat-friends and explains that it’s time for everybody to say meow. “Ready?” he asks. 

On the next page, all the cats are happily saying, “Meow!” BUT—there’s also a dog, peeking around the edge of the page. With a smile and a friendly wave, he says, “Woof!” 

The story continues with these page-turn surprises, and the kids eagerly await the next animal to peek around the page. I love how I have to pause my reading and wait for the laughter to quiet down.

I love Jan Thomas’s books! This one starts with three charming cows who are excited to see a red sofa. “Look!” they say. “It’s chicken’s sofa!”

Why are they excited? One page-turn later and PLOP! The cows are all squished together, sitting on the sofa. “Is everyone ready for fun?” they ask. 

Turns out, the cows have lots of plans for this sofa. Jumping! Dancing! Wiggling! Poor chicken tries to get them to stop, but these fun-loving cows don’t notice the effect of their “fun” on chicken’s sofa. 

I love having the kids act out each scene of jumping, dancing, wiggling, and the final satisfying page. Books that get kids engaged, whether with a catchy refrain or physical actions are fun. (And like those cows, we are ready for fun!)

When it comes to discussions about meat, wouldn’t you like something balanced rather than strident? Denis and Gail Hayes offer a well-researched and well-written look at the role of cows in our history and diets. The book’s appeal is that it is both too radical for most cowboys (except the couple hundred ranchers actually doing it right) and too honest about the important role animal protein played in human evolution for the vegans. Cowed also delivers an array of quotable facts, such as “Eating a pound of beef has a greater climate impact than burning a gallon of gasoline.” 

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. 

Although this story is not set in a school setting, this historical fiction novel-in-verse still fits really nicely into this theme of youth activism. I found Salazar’s writing very poetically moving yet accessible to young readers at the same time.

Lula’s dream to be the ringleader of a Mexican traveling service is creative and fun, yet the realities and struggles of her migrant farmworker family are very real and viscerally felt. I felt very inspired by Lula’s strength and voice as she and her family fought in the farmworkers’ rights movement in California in the 1960s, making this book a must-read for the future changemakers of today.

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.

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.

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."