100 books like Dreamland Lake

The Outsiders is regarded by many readers to be S.E. Hinton's finest novel.

The book is narrated by Pony Boy Curtis and takes the reader through a slew of emotions, from kindness to caring, to friendship and depression, all within a framework that can be considered genius by today’s standards. Pony Boy's friendship with Johnny is a recurring theme throughout the book, not just through him, but through the characters involved.

The movie is almost verbatim from the book, which is a very good thing. This book is timeless and can be read by any generation. Very few books can be said to do this. A good book is one that you read every couple of years. A great book is one that you read every year. This is a great book. 

Mark Twain’s wit somehow manages to transcend time as he infuses this iconic character with the freshness of an innocent who is anything but.

The “road” in this story is the Mississippi River, and the method of transportation is a raft. The journey takes Huck on a transformational journey as he unlearns everything his society has taught him about good and bad and right and wrong. This uneducated boy begins to think for himself.

Once the plot resolves, Huck wants to escape being “sivilized” because he has learned it is anything but. He wants to “light out for the territory”, a metaphorical place that, although impossible as a realistic solution to his problems, still seems a place of freedom worth seeking out.

Salinger broke a lot of unspoken rules of fiction-writing–and thus life–with Catcher. It was emotionally cauterizing for me as a teenager while incessantly trying, and failing, at learning rules adults apparently didn’t want us to know.

I’m certain many of my contemporaries identified with Holden Caulfield’s stream-of-consciousness introspection as deeply as I did. And when I think back about it, I find myself once again in the grip of how it was: ferreting out how life works but getting no guidance from parents, teachers, or bosses, only the terror of making mistake after mistake until the world didn’t make sense any longer. Just as had happened to Holden, but at last, I understood I was not alone in my confusion.

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.

What I love about this book–strange as it may sound–is how perfectly the darker emotions are captured; shame, envy, disgust, and boredom are so vibrantly described as to become almost beautiful.

Growing up in a corner of Naples run by the mafia, protagonist Raffaella Cerullo is brilliant and fearless. This book is the first in a four-book series that I read the summer of its release, and it made me want to pack up and go to Naples.

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.

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 hoped to like this book, but I didn’t expect to. I don’t usually read YA novels. No matter your normal reading preferences, though, there’s something special here for every reader.

Abbie captures elements of the human condition with artistic and poetic fluency that make it a joy to read her prose. But there’s more to love about this story. Tessa and Weston are two characters I immediately identified with and connected to, because of their authentic feelings and flawed selves.

Finding yourself amid chaos becomes easier when you have someone to share that experience with. Tessa and Weston prove this in a way that’s emotionally moving and authentic. Part coming of age and love story, 100 Days of Sunlight will shine bright long beyond that span of time.

Paddy Clarke’s 10-year-old voice is compelling and funny.

He lives in Dublin, Ireland in the 1960s, and the way he tells his story is breathless, fast-paced, and naïve: a child’s mind, puzzled at life’s complexities. I wanted to have him round for tea and reassure him.

His narration is full of left turns and right turns and about turns as we follow – or try to follow - his train of thought. He doesn’t understand many of the things that happen at school, at home, and with the friends with whom he roams town, playing war games and making nuisances of themselves.

But, as his family begins to fracture, we weep for him.