Fans pick 100 books like How Do You Live?

I simply love this book and read it at least once a year. It’s in the YA genre, and I am more like an MAA (middle-aged adult) but the main character, Auggie Pullman, and his friends and family are so enticing that I’m drawn in every time.

Auggie has an incredibly rare facial deformity and when we first meet him, he’s off to school for the first time. The book is written with a light touch and from many different voices, something the author pulls off with aplomb. It’s notoriously difficult to get away with multiple narrators, but this really works.

I root for Auggie every time, and the sheer humanity of the book, along with great humour and characterisation means that I come back to it again and again.

This book was my favorite book for most of my life, so it holds a special place in my heart. It was only bumped by Well Witched (Verdigris Deep). 

This is the book I read over and over to my two children. One of whom loved to act out being the indomitable Bilbo Baggins. The prose is beautiful, the plot is tight, the adventure is fun, the wonder is wondrous. Who doesn’t love forest elves? And the world-building is amazing. I guess we all know that was Tolkien’s specialty!

I will argue with anyone that this is the best story Tolkien ever wrote. The prose is beautiful to read. It doesn’t wander, it doesn’t get off track, there’s a humor, and let’s not forget the dragon, and all packed into 310 pages!

Amari Peters is a Black girl from a low-income housing project with a lot of heart.

Yet when she’s sent to the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs and discovers the world of the supernatural, she must compete with other students who have enjoyed a lot of privilege. It isn’t just that the world around Amari is spectacular and well-built, but we’re getting a glimpse into her challenges both at home and at this new school.

I loved being in the perspective of someone who never thought they could be a hero before. Someone who looks at things from a different lens can help us build a whole lot of empathy.

I think every reread of this book unveils another layer to its complexity. The Little Prince is a classic tale that will mean different things to different people—a mesmerizing journey to wide-eyed children, a reminder of the world’s fragility to adults, and a longing for nostalgia by those grown who may have had their innocence stripped away early. The first time I read it, I was swept away by the pictures and pretty words, and yet still, there was an ache in my heart that only later, on my next read, did I truly understand. But every reader can feel it; the beauty and grief for a place or time we may never return to. 

A retelling inspired by the ballad of Hua Mulan, this tale is not a fairy tale in the sense of princesses, but a powerful legend in its own right. Taking place in feudal Japan, the character Mariko immediately weaved her place as my favorite. Always thinking how she can best escape or twist a situation to her advantage, the beginning of the story featured her setting out to find who was trying to kill her, and never stopped from there. Including finding her own found family of outlaws, and able to use her love of experiments in any way she pleases. Every time Mariko came up with a new idea for an invention, it felt like I could see the thoughts sparking inside her mind. Sometimes they worked, sometimes not, but she never stopped trying. That includes finding the truth to some of the darker events that come into play.

Who would expect a stray cat to be such a fine philosopher and insightful observer of human nature? How deeply affectionate the relationship between a man and his cat could be? This book provides amazing perspectives. Not only is the feline companion of the main character a witty, funny, loving being, but he’s also a witness to what happens in his caretaker’s life, mirroring friendship, love, loss, and standing by his human’s side through unexpected trials. I like how the author personifies the cat and how he uses the travels of the surprising pair (cat-man) to metaphorically picture the main stages of human growth.  

The novel Sold Out is a favorite book of mine because Carlson’s main female character, Chloe Miller, forms her own band while struggling early on until they become a hit in their community. Success, however, brings them problems of finding out who their real friends are. Even when the band is discovered by a talent scout from Nashville, conflicts erupt amongst the band members and attitudes start clashing, and Chloe’s dream is falling apart. However, she refuses to give up, and she finds the strength through God and prayer to make the decisions necessary to be proud of her accomplishments. 

The Nowhere Girls tells the story of a diverse group of girls who come together, and in finding their own strength, raise their collective voice to avenge the rape of a fellow classmate. I love the truly empowering message of this book: That we (as individuals, and society as a whole) have the ability to raise each other up, and demand that survivors’ stories are seen and heard. This book came out in 2017, directly in the midst of the #MeToo movement going viral—and not by accident. This is one of those books that holds a mirror up to society, perfectly reflecting not only the problem, but also offering a model for change and justice.

From Mary Gaitskill to a book that skips empathy and goes straight for evil.

This book about horrible middle school students systematically tearing down the fat girl in their class through bullying that borders on sexual assault is, to this day, the most nihilistic book I’ve ever read about human nature. The choice Blume makes that gives this book its extra edge is she writes from the viewpoint of Jill, a gutless follower. Jill tortures Linda because the popular kids sanction it; her evil is only matched by her mediocrity. Thus, Blume doesn’t even give her readers a “cool” bully to anchor the story.

Evil children, lazy teachers, no kernel of hope, just good old American cruelty where even the perpetual victim, Linda, turns out to suck in the end. I doubt I’ll ever write a book this dark, but damn, do I admire Blume for writing it.

Who said chess isn’t a sport? To be honest, I did before I read this incredible illustrated novel in verse. But after reading Marcus’s story in Chess Rumble by G. Neri, I changed my mind faster than a Queen can take out a lowly pawn. Marcus is in desperate need of an outlet. He’s dealing with some major personal issues at home as well as some major public ones at school. When he discovers chess, however, he quickly learns how much patience and control the game requires. Little by little, Marcus realizes that planning his moves on a chessboard isn't all that different from planning his moves in his own life.