Fans pick 100 books like Speak

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.

Dr. Irvin Yalom is a writer and clinical practitioner who is beloved by many in the field of mental health and therapy. I, like many, admire the way in which he tackles the most difficult human dilemmas through intimate stories highlighting the universality of many of these topics. It was difficult for me to pick which of Dr. Yalom’s books to recommend, as I have thoroughly enjoyed each one I’ve read. However, The Schopenhauer Cure is particularly about confronting mortality—the realization of the ephemerality of life and the limitations and acceptance of what we can achieve. Through Dr. Yalom’s adroit depictions of Philip Slate and Julius Hertzfeld, we see the blurred edges of philosophy and psychology, where some of our most basic questions may best be addressed by the melding of the two.

This is one of my all-time favorite books; while the focus is not an affair exactly, the 1968 Prague-set novel goes into much depth exploring the nature of commitment and monogamy in general. Also, you get wonderful insight into some timeless ideas of what it means to be human, such as this one: "Living, there is no happiness in that. 

Living: carrying one’s painful self through the world. But being, being is happiness. Being: becoming a fountain, a fountain on which the universe falls like warm rain."

The Earth’s Children series fully immersed me in Stone Age Europe, thanks to Jean M. Auel’s nerd-level research. But what hooked me was her protagonist: Ayla, a courageous, spiritually gifted, neurodivergent genius. Though Ayla’s a white Cro-magnon, and I’m a Latina Homo sapiens, I relate to this fish out of water.

In this book, she’s wildly different from the Neanderthals who adopt her, echoing my own family experience. Ayla’s unique problem-solving skills also set her apart, sending her careening between loneliness and leadership. What excites me most about her journey is that the demands of the Ice Age give her more opportunities to explore her potential than many modern women. I recommend starting with Clan of the Cave Bear, Ayla’s origin story, which stands on its own. 

I felt so seen in this story. Elizabeth Acevedo paints a spectacular character (Xiomara) who is caught between worlds—the “old” world of her parents and their strict traditions and the “new” world where she can perform spoken word poetry on stage.

I laughed and cried as I read this book, which was told in verse, especially regarding Xiomara’s relationship with her mother. I could relate so much to Xiomara and the arguments she got into with her mother. I was reminded of my own adolescence and the many fights I had with my mom. It’s all good now, but wow. We used to really get into it during those rocky years.

Of the five recommendations I made, this one is the heaviest. Historical fiction set in Germany during WWII, and having our main character be a poor German girl offers such an interesting juxtaposition of the starkness of the global stage with homelife for Liesel.

Another reason I love this book: Death as the narrator. So awesome giving Death a voice and imagining how he might think/feel. I also love how multifaceted all the characters are–they are full of both light and darkness, but it’s their decisions that determine if light will shine in such dark times.

Billed as YA lit, don’t let that stop you. It is an auto-fictional account of a young boy refugee from Iran who suddenly finds himself in the middle of Oklahoma: malls and milkshakes. I was in fits of laughter throughout because the narrator's voice is so unique and charming, a much more optimistic Holden Caulfield. But the themes can also be hard, and therein lies the magic.

I loved the unique story structure of telling his stories in the format of 1001 Nights. This validated my own choice to structure my book in the format of The Little Match Girl, striking matches in a snowstorm. I loved this book for its swirl of myth, magical realism, and family stories that weave seamlessly through a modern-day exploration of refugee identity and belonging.

I was twelve when I fell in love with the old fashioned allure of the 19th century that I discovered in this book, which provided an early template (1868), for generations of books to follow that break down female stereotypes.

I identified with different aspects of all four March daughters, but most powerfully with Jo, the writer, who secretively pursues publication, prevails as a successful author, and no doubt provided a template for my own development as a writer.

And Marmee’s nurturing model of mothering was especially consoling to me as I grew up entangled in a difficult mother/daughter relationship, later to be recycled in my own books.

I first read this extraordinary, heartwarming story of self-reliance and survival when my own children were growing up, and I’ve returned to reading Island of the Blue Dolphins often throughout my adult years, typically at times when I find myself struggling to regain my footing as I face personal problems and challenges.

Published in 1960, this book tells the story of a young girl named Karana who spends nearly two decades abandoned and alone on the desert island her tribe evacuates after a deadly conflict with Aleutian otter hunters. I’ve often recommended this slight but powerful tale to women friends suffering from feelings of desolation and helplessness, and Karana’s courage, resilience, and creativity have succeeded in lifting their spirits and inspiring hope.

I loved this YA because it contains many of my favorite things: an evocative island setting, strong characters, high stakes, some romance, and animals.

The Celtic-inspired island of Thisby felt so incredibly real to me, as did the dangerous water horses the men raced every fall. I loved how brave the female protagonist, Puck, is to want to enter this race with her ordinary pony, Dove. Sean, an island boy, has his own sympathetic reasons for entering the race.

I’m always drawn to books with impossible problems. Neither Puck nor Sean can afford to lose, even as a romance develops between them. I also really like a YA book that touches on sibling relationships. This book stayed with me for a long time.