Fans pick 100 books like Live Right and Find Happiness (Although Beer is Much Faster)

Bernadette can be difficult to like, but that's partly why I love her character. She's unapologetically authentic with sharp edges and a serious dislike of Seattle. Rather than grimace at her put-downs of my hometown, I laughed because she included inside jokes only Seattlites would understand, and there was a granule of truth in all of it.

I'm intensely interested in the challenges and rewards of motherhood. Portraying it as something emotionally draining and frustrating, utterly consuming and ultimately wonderful, Maria Semple captured what many of us experience using Bernadette as her medium.

This book is indeed a “creation of comic genius,” as Nick Hornby blurbed. The movie didn’t do anything for me; I found Renée Zellweger quite blah, and Hugh Grant was playing the British cad as usual. However, the book was so funny I had a hard time putting it down.

Basically, it is about Bridget, a British “Everywoman” who falls into the clutches of her slimy boss, Daniel, while on a quest for the traditional Holy Grail of womanhood—true love. One of the things I most enjoyed about this chick-lit classic was the rather graphic booze-and-smoking sessions, as well as the eccentric minor characters, especially Bridget’s mother. My mother is also a maverick and very much a free spirit, so this really resonated with me.

This book is the first in Hiaasen’s Andrew Yancy series, and like all of his books, most of it takes place mucking around in Florida wetlands. I lived in Winter Haven for a few years as a teenager, and enjoyed reminiscing about that time while following Yancy around the state.

Hiaasen’s known for being a little wacky and a lot funny, more than his plot twists, but this book brings the surprise. This one’s funnier than the rest of the books on this list, making it the ultimate beach read, ideally accompanied by a cool glass of swampwater. 

This book didn't feel so much like a book as a long conversation with a best friend. When a middle-aged woman's chin sprouts peach fuzz and spiky hairs like a garden run amok, we might feel embarrassed or too self-conscious to talk about it.

In this book, Nora Ephron helps us see ourselves through our shared experiences, assuring us that we're in good company. The laugh score? 8.5/10. Turkey neck can only be so funny.

My book club found this book depressing and shook their heads at my choice. I found it a fascinating account of a life that is meaningful for its owner. The protagonist is a woman dying in an abandoned mental hospital after years of abuse and neglect. And yet, she has a psychological condition that makes her infinitely compassionate towards others: she can only perceive goodwill and love. When she tells the story of her “happy life,” she even feels bad for her rapist. You will love or hate this book. But it will make you think.

This is to me is the best book ever written for understanding what human beings are, how we are similar to and different from other animal species, how we develop from helpless newborns to fully functioning adults, and what we are striving for in our lives. Most nonfiction books make a point and then repeat it over and over with examples and anecdotes. In contrast, The Birth and Death of Meaning begins with evolution and progresses logically from its first page to its last. When you finish this book, you will have a much better understanding of yourself, the people in your life, historical and current events, and problems ranging from anxiety and depression to interpersonal conflict to prejudice.  

Steppenwolf is part funhouse reverie and part rumination on class division and loneliness, and it’s steeped in Hesse’s fascination with the sublime.

It’s not necessarily a fun read—at times, it’s downright frustrating—but it has the cajones to be frustrating, and that’s fine by me. Hesse employs a version of Jungian analysis in this book, and I enjoy the multiple "selves" that the protagonist Harry Haller (a substitute for Herman Hesse himself?) inhabits.

I’ve read this book over and over and highlighted something new every time. Somehow, through the lens of Nazi death camps, Frankl validates everyone’s suffering, including my own. I’ve always known that suffering is an inescapable part of the human experience, but this helped me understand that to the brain, it isn’t relative in the ways I always thought.

Furthermore, this book helped me understand that my coping mechanisms inform suffering’s hold on me. Stories are a coping mechanism, and I learned that redirecting my attention and creating my personal narratives around what is meaningful to me rather than the source of pain is key to the cage of suffering. This book changed how I understand the importance of purpose and the power of what I build my stories around. 

Oprah is my hero. I can think of no more impressive entrepreneur, from what she started with to what she built and the impact she has had on the world. For many people, understanding one’s purpose and direction is the first step towards becoming a successful entrepreneur and a happy and fulfilled human being. This book will help you begin to do the hard work to get there.

In philosophy that focuses upon the meaning of life it is not long before one comes across the name of Joshua Seachris.

He wrote the introduction to this book and each of his fellow editors introduce their respective sections.

Thaddeus Metz introduces ‘Understanding the Question of Life’s Meaning’; John Cottingham introduces ‘What Does God have to do with the meaning of life?’; Garrett Thomson introduces ‘The Loss of Meaning in a World without God’; Erik J. Wielenberg introduces ‘Finding Meaning in a World without God’; and John Martin Fischer introduces ‘The Meaning of Life and the Way Life Ends: Death Futility and Hope’. 

Each section consists of about six different essays, from authors as diverse as Bertrand Russell, C.S. Lewis, and Leo Tolstoy.