Fans pick 78 books like I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter

This book is one of the first to teach me how wonderfully odd people can be. Jandy Nelson’s ability to write about lovable, flawed people who see the world differently gave me the courage to take pride in my peculiarity.

With memorable characters and strong familial relationships, this book is one of my go-to recommendations for anyone wondering if there is space for the strange.

I love this novel in verse because it made me think a lot about what it must be like to have a whole root system, a family, in a place, a whole country apart, that you have never or rarely visited. I concluded that sometimes it’s not about how you came to eventually make it back to that home you’ve never known, but that you went to explore it at all.

I adore this book because it reminds me of my own teenage years, filled with innocent crushes and the terror of being 'exposed.' It’s an emotional joyride that took me back to those sleepless nights wondering if my secret admirer ever knew how I felt.

Recommending this book feels like sharing a piece of my own journey through adolescence.

Hands down, this is my favorite coming-of-age novel, written by Rainbow Rowell. Protagonist Cath copes with anxiety, family problems, and being away from home at college for the first time, but I loved this book because it plays with Harry Potter tropes, another book that appeals to adults as well as teens. 

Cath is obsessed with a Harry Potter-like series called Simon Snow. Like Harry, Simon attends a school for magic and fights against evil, but he’s also in love with his roommate, a thinly veiled version of Draco Malfoy. 

Cath not only reads all the Simon Snow books and dresses up in costumes for the movies, but she is also a devoted fan fiction writer. While Cath copes with her life and falls in love for the first time, it’s her queer Simon Snow fan fiction that kept me reading. 

If you fall in love with Simon… show more.

Caramelo explores the places where lies end and stories begin, how family histories are built and shaped by each generation that adds its own versions of the “truth” to family lore. Lala, the narrator, is consumed by rumors of the daughter her father had with a washerwoman, a half-sister whom she imagines and seeks, a truth which she struggles to extract from a family known for its storytelling, its “healthy lies,” as her grandmother calls them. “You’re not supposed to ask about such things. There are stories no one is willing to tell you,” Cisneros writes. I love Cisneros’s amazing symphony of details—colors, smells, noises—the way she weaves so many stories together, her hilarious eye for human quirks, and her sparkling prose.

When I read So Far From God, it did two things. First, it helped me understand this genre that was created by Latin American authors. Lois Parkinson Zamora said, “Magical realism is characterized by...its capacity to create (magical) meanings by envisioning ordinary things in extraordinary ways.” I understood what that meant when I read So Far From God. In the first chapter alone, one of the main characters, La Loca, dies and comes back to life. Her death was ordinary and extraordinary. I was hooked. 

Perhaps more importantly, in reading Castillo’s novel, I saw our shared Latina history, culture, and perspective through the stories she told. It was the first book that validated my experience as a Latina which is why it’ll always be close to my heart.

Villasenor’s Rain of Gold is the first of a trilogy about his family's migration to the United States in the early part of the 20th Century.

Published in 1991, I was fascinated by the book’s rich detail, the numerous layers of stories about his family regarding their life in Mexico, their decision to leave, the challenges they faced finding work and struggling to fit into the United States.

The book covers his parents’ lives as children and the trials their families faced in surviving the Mexican Revolution. His parents meet when they are very young and eventually move to Carlsbad, California. Villasenor’s trilogy highlights the importance of family and personal integrity. I was especially intrigued that the author was able to transform his familial history into a work of literature.

This moving novel is right from the headlines of today reflecting real-life events. 

The story follows a 12-year-old boy named Jerome who is shot and killed by a white police officer after he mistakes Jerome's toy gun for a real one. Jerome becomes a ghost who meets another ghost, that of Emmett Till, a black boy who was murdered in 1955.

Through Till's story, Jerome learns about other "ghost boys" left to roam society, trying to stop society from repeating itself. 

This is the first book I ever read by a Latina author. I was nineteen years old and a student at a small private liberal arts college in Connecticut. My professor assigned it to my American Literature class. I thought she’d made a mistake because some of the words in the book were in Spanish. I didn’t know you could do that—write in English but have some words in Spanish peppered throughout the dialogue and text. I was stunned.

I remember reading about Esperanza and her experiences in her Mexican neighborhood in Chicago, meeting characters on Mango Street, and falling in love with both the story and Cisneros’ playful, vulnerable, poetic writing style. After reading this book, I knew I also wanted to be a writer.

Ruth and Gemma are two moms with opposing lifestyles. Ruth is affluent, while Gemma is struggling to make ends meet. Shunned by the other moms, Ruth clings to Gemma, showering her with gifts and trips and the two become best frienemies. Their toxic relationship is a fun ride, and two separate incidents years apart leave both moms finding themselves on the wrong side of scandal. This book got messier and messier with each page, and I was there for it. Every time I thought I had figured out what was going on, I’d read a sentence and question everything.