100 books like Dreamland Lake

I found it easy to sympathize with Ponyboy Curtis as a victim of circumstance. He’s poor and raised by someone other than his parents, just like I was. More than that, I loved how he doesn’t cling to any of the early illusions about himself, his family, the neighborhood gang, or even the rival gang from the West side. 

Instead, he tries to see things as they are. And even though this 14-year-old punk, who belongs to a “gang of greasers,” discovers how unfair life can be, he still takes it upon himself to give meaning to what is lost. There is something incredibly noble in seeing a smart, empathetic teen wrestling with loss and struggling to be his own person against all odds.

I’m the youngest of six sons. Our father read this book aloud to each of us. By the time I came along, he’d had lots of practice. He had distinct voices for all the characters. I can still hear him doing Jim’s voice after Jim gets whacked by the rattlesnake. I had nightmares for a week.

Your grasp of reality is altered when you read Huck Finn as a kid. Twain sweeps you out onto the Mississippi, where you mentally, emotionally, and physically, yes, physically, endure the journey with Huck and Jim.

I didn’t realize until I read the novel years later that this book was the first to blow my mind. And what was I? Nine? Maybe ten? Thanks, Dad!

So what if his worldview never makes sense to anyone but himself? I see Holden Caulfield as the quintessential benchmark for a bad boy, shucking off the last few days at the boarding school that expelled him to wander around Manhattan in a daze. Some readers don’t like him so much that they are personally invested in attacking him and what he represents. 

But what is it that he represents, exactly? When I look beyond the surface of his false bravado, he’s a character deeply affected by the death of his brother and is setting out on a quest to understand how to be a real person in a world of phonies. Many of us, as teenagers, also have moments of feeling misunderstood and alone. I know I did, and so did Holden. 

I read this book when I finishing an early draft of my own first novel and I was thoroughly impressed as well as a little intimidated by it. Having drummed up the courage to write my own coming-of-age novel after reading another YA novel that was popular at the time which I felt had clunky dialogue and narration, I was amazed at Spinelli's spot-on dialogue and crisp narration which captured the quirky and (sometimes) wonderful world of a 7th-grade narrator who was no longer a little kid but who hadn’t yet entered into young adulthood. It remains one of my favorites even today.

I found myself fascinated by the development of the friendship between two Italian girls in Naples. They have known each other almost from birth but have held tight to each other as they have grown into very different lives, careers, and marriages in a city plagued by economic chaos and a local mafia.

Every detail is rich and pertinent; I could see and feel the city as they grew into adulthood, and I could agonize over the choices presented to them and cheer when they found their own paths to fulfillment. The story evolves over three more volumes, but this first one can be read on its own.

If I leave a graphic novel around the house, it will certainly be read.

This one, a memoir about the author’s student trip to Europe in the summer of 7th grade, hits just the right tone for middle schoolers making that break from childhood to teenager. The story takes place in the eighties (and Europe!), and the author has experiences that involve a level of freedom that’s rare for kids these days.

There are also the highs and lows of the first crush, and I love to know that my son has read this, even if he didn’t discuss it with me.

Tin Man weaves the beauty and meaning of Van Gogh’s oeuvre into a background for a story that is written like poetry. Time is a main character who is sometimes kind, but mostly cruel. Separation, loss, and longing are themes that all people can relate to but when seen through the perspective of a character who identifies as LGBTQ+ it heightens and clarifies those human experiences in a way that draws a reader from any background deeper into an exploration of what the passing of time means and the consequences of ignoring the herald of each minute that ticks by.

Lorrie Moore is another one of my favorite writers and someone I’ve been lucky enough to write about on multiple occasions. Her first novel, Anagrams, is smart, fun, and resolutely—even defiantly—weird. Her second novel, Who Will Run the Frog Hospital? is all those things and more.

Berie, the narrator, is on a bad vacation in Paris, where her marriage is teetering on the brink of collapse. Instead of dealing with her obnoxious husband, she thinks back to the summer she turned fifteen and the profound friendship she forged with a girl she worked with at a Disney-knockoff theme park in upstate New York.

Like Home Land, this novel has its cultists, and I’m happy to count myself among them. Moore, like Lipsyte, is a stylist as unmistakable as she is unprecedented, someone whose sentences I would recognize anywhere. This slim coming-of-age novel bears all her hallmarks—comic timing, gimlet… show more.

Some first person voices are just so naturally nostalgic, like you’re sitting around a campfire listening to someone telling you a story.

“The year my mother started hearing voices from her dead brother Clyde,” or “But Gigi was the first to fly.” So many moments to hold onto in this novel, each an introduction to another tale, or a memory you can’t wait to listen to and run off down the street to share it for yourself.

The voice of August is so real and clear and poetic that one forgets there’s even a writer behind it. This close first-person voice lets us in, welcomes us into the secrets of the street. “Everywhere we looked we saw the people trying to dream themselves out.” And dream I did, along every glorious page, only I never wanted out.

I’m a sap for a cute romance story, and this one is as cute as it comes. What I really loved was Weston. He chose to keep helping Tessa work through her grief and temporary blindness because he loved being treated like a “normal” person because normal for him is people taking one look at him and feeling sorry for him.

Since Tessa is blind, she wasn’t aware of Weston’s disability, and this allowed Weston to show a level of quiet strength in the face of someone who completely hates his presence because she could only think of all the things she couldn’t do now that her eyesight is gone.