Fans pick 100 books like Looking for Alaska

Anne Shirley is the most optimistic character in literature, and I have an unwavering love for her. Despite her circumstances, her boundless imagination and deep gratitude for the beauty in the world and people inspire both those around her and me.

When I read Anne of Green Gables, the world seemed brighter and more hopeful. I was overjoyed when my children were old enough for me to share this book with them. Her character's transformative power is undeniable, and her poetic view of life stays with me long after the last page.

I love that it was written by a woman. I always appreciate it when female authors write female characters. Every time I read Anne of Green Gables, I feel a pang of grief when it ends.

Discovering Diana, the reluctant witch who must rediscover herself and her supernatural talents, makes this novel a page-turner of magick and mystery. And I loved how the weave of those two powers pulled in the romance between Diana and Matthew. An added spicy balance that mixes like a brew into the witch and vampire families that are here and from the Otherworld.

I am not a vampire fan, but the magick here is irresistible. It became rather addictive because the witchcraft spells were so illusory that I felt “invited in.” The vampire scenes were a bit nerve-wracking, creating real tension for me. Diana’s journey was perfect, as it kept growing with obsessive and fantastical suspense. I was in their witch-vampire world, which was as frightening as it was compelling. 

This book has become so familiar to us through cartoons and movies that we often forget how very weird it is as a piece of writing. The book begins when Alice, bored of her sister’s company, notices a white rabbit muttering to itself “Oh dear! Oh dear!”, and starts to become curious—not, mind you, because talking rabbits are impossible, but only because they are so very intriguing.

The rest of the book shares this bemused tone: Alice will be subjected to all sorts of indignities, including a near-beheading, but as a “good” Victorian girl, she will generally accept the bizarre reality that is presented to her. Carroll’s mastery of language is key to this effect. Nearly every character sounds sensible, turning well-formed logical sentences, but they never make much actual sense, and their speeches are riddled with so many puns, double meanings, and other linguistic tricks that one can never… show more.

The story of Clay Jensen is both beautiful and repelling in that it forced me to consider the unseen impact my insecurities and actions may have had on others when I was a teen. I couldn’t imagine being a shy, bright, and likable California high school student unexpectedly thrust into the center of a girl’s suicide by being named one of the contributors to her death. But that’s the point. Neither can Clay. 

In his case, the only way to discover why he was included is to listen to a set of thirteen tapes made by the victim. These tapes take him on a journey of personal growth and transformation despite his only having the loosest of connections to her. In doing so, he takes us right along with him, considering how our briefest interactions could have profoundly impacted someone else.

I’ve always loved stories that explore the themes of love and loss and how they entwine as one. All The Bright Places is no exception to this. Be warned; you may shed some tears!

The emotional connection you create with this book is something I tried to tap into with my own writing, and I hope that the authenticity of All The Bright Places is something that can be found in my own work. I love this book with my whole heart. I often write characters with past trauma, which becomes apparent as they begin working on themselves through the plot's unravelling.

I see so many similarities between my own characters to that of Violet Markey, a main character in All The Bright Places. She is what I consider to be an inspiration to my own writing from the very beginning. It’s truly an emotional tale filled with important topics… show more.

Right off the bat, Darius jumps off the page as a real teen with relatable problems.

He’s the quiet kid at school, who the others tease. And he suffers from clinical depression. What I loved was how well Khorram tackled depression’s subtleties.

I think there is a tendency for society to see depression as this overarching dark cloud that keeps us in bed 24/7. But the truth is, many people who are suffering, are functional.

From the outside, we don’t see the building up of little moments that act like a snowball gradually expanding as it rolls down the mountain face.

Be warned – the food descriptions are amazing, so you might get hungry during the read.

This is a unique entry in that the cursed place is a framing device, for this collection of mostly disturbing tales. For his first-ever collection of short stories, Palahniuk brings his wretched cast of characters to a haunted house, where each in turn offers his or her own demented tale. They don’t all work, but a number of the stories really stick with you, and this spooky old house at the center of it ratchets the intensity up another level—it’s not a static situation they are in, there, so the plot progresses to its own warped conclusion on this front as well. 

This coming-of-age novel has everything: love, grunge music, angst, and a slow revelation of past trauma. I don't think I speak for everyone with mental health issues, but I know that having a traumatic childhood is a common, shared factor amongst people with serious diagnoses. I read this one before I understood why I identified so strongly with it.

Charlie lives on the fringes, barely dipping a toe into the social melee that is high school life, yet, with courage and determination, he carves out a place for himself. While his new friendships allow him to find himself, they also allow him the safety to confront the wounds of his past, wounds too large for even his teenage self to come to grips with. 

Even though my last manic episode was over sixteen years ago, I am only recently doing the real work of processing and understanding the traumatic experiences… show more.

I love this book because although it seems at a casual glance to be written in the mold of 50s and 60s science fiction, with earthmen fighting bug-eyed aliens, it’s, in fact, a profound exploration of the morality of war, of chances, lost and motives misunderstood and of the ruthless use of children as combatants.

The training regimen of the children is gripping, as is the climactic space battle, but it’s the ending of the novel that gives the story its deep spiritual resonance.

This book made me think about what it would be like to be a famous actress—the scandals, the romance, and the idea of constantly being watched. Taylor paints an impressive image of what a woman such as Evelyn Hugo would go through to make it in such a cutthroat world.

One wrong move could cause you to lose everything you worked so hard to achieve. The story had me hooked from the beginning, and I greatly enjoyed the little mystery she tossed in with Evelyn and why she chose Monique as her reporter. Scandal and mystery are always a tasty treat in the world of fiction.