100 books like Summer of '79

This is a story of redemption at its sweetest. Although written in 1911, it stands the test of time for today’s girls who think all is lost and find their happy place in the natural world.

I loved nine-year-old Mary Lennox’s exotic beginnings. Born in India to an absent mother and an often ill and busy English father, Mary’s frequent illnesses, lack of attention, and permissive nannies had turned her into an unlikable human. I had a hard time imagining this girl doing anything positive.

I thought for sure she was unretrievable. But when Mary, a seeming lost cause, is sent to live with a distant uncle, she is transformed. Inspired by a secret garden and determined to bring it back to life, she ultimately finds healing and happiness. Lost causes who are saved by birds and nature are my favorites! 

So, this book was made into two movies, the first in 1981 and the other in 2002, but I first experienced this story by reading the book when I was a young girl in sixth grade in 1978. I remember reading the epilogue over and over again—it broke my heart to think how the greed of one man could ruin something so magical. I pondered whether it was a blessing or a curse to live forever, and the town of Treegap felt like it could exist in any wooded place. Whenever I find myself in a thick forest, I still search for springs that bubble up from the ground, taking me right back to those emotions when reading this great classic.

Going through anxiety can be tough and lonesome. I know most of us are stubborn and want to go things alone, just like Autumn does in this book. West paints a picture of how keeping our trials to ourselves can hold us back and keep us from growing. It can damage friendships and relationships. By giving your close friends and family a chance to see the world through your eyes, you’re giving them a way to truly and deeply understand you, which is all anyone really wants.

Beautifully conceived and timeless, this is a touchstone book for me. The two kids at the center feel so real to me: 10-year-old Jess, a farm kid and aspiring artist who is lonely, closed off, and feeling misunderstood, and the new kid, Leslie, who has moved with her family from the city.

The kids’ friendship is authentic, with some childhood magic grounded in the real world. This book is about the sudden death of a friend, and I admire that Paterson does not talk down to kids or try to comfort them with unrealistically simple answers.

As a boy, I also found strength in seeing Jess empowered, taking steps that moved him forward despite his grief over Leslie’s death.

As a bad boy protagonist, I’ve always loathed Gene Forrester and love to loathe him. He starts as a quiet, intellectual student whose best friend and roommate is charming, self-confident, athletic, and a daredevil without being arrogant. Gene even seems to admire his roommate for having all those qualities until we learn the truth. He resents him. 

Like Gene, there were times in my life when playing wingman to a vastly more popular friend could be frustrating, doubly so when they made terrible decisions. Yet, Gene’s journey to the heart of darkness helps put things in perspective. There is no better warning against envy and jealousy than the one immortalized by John Knowles.

Lorrie Moore is another one of my favorite writers and someone I’ve been lucky enough to write about on multiple occasions. Her first novel, Anagrams, is smart, fun, and resolutely—even defiantly—weird. Her second novel, Who Will Run the Frog Hospital? is all those things and more.

Berie, the narrator, is on a bad vacation in Paris, where her marriage is teetering on the brink of collapse. Instead of dealing with her obnoxious husband, she thinks back to the summer she turned fifteen and the profound friendship she forged with a girl she worked with at a Disney-knockoff theme park in upstate New York.

Like Home Land, this novel has its cultists, and I’m happy to count myself among them. Moore, like Lipsyte, is a stylist as unmistakable as she is unprecedented, someone whose sentences I would recognize anywhere. This slim coming-of-age novel bears all her hallmarks—comic timing, gimlet… show more.

Some first person voices are just so naturally nostalgic, like you’re sitting around a campfire listening to someone telling you a story.

“The year my mother started hearing voices from her dead brother Clyde,” or “But Gigi was the first to fly.” So many moments to hold onto in this novel, each an introduction to another tale, or a memory you can’t wait to listen to and run off down the street to share it for yourself.

The voice of August is so real and clear and poetic that one forgets there’s even a writer behind it. This close first-person voice lets us in, welcomes us into the secrets of the street. “Everywhere we looked we saw the people trying to dream themselves out.” And dream I did, along every glorious page, only I never wanted out.

Tin Man weaves the beauty and meaning of Van Gogh’s oeuvre into a background for a story that is written like poetry. Time is a main character who is sometimes kind, but mostly cruel. Separation, loss, and longing are themes that all people can relate to but when seen through the perspective of a character who identifies as LGBTQ+ it heightens and clarifies those human experiences in a way that draws a reader from any background deeper into an exploration of what the passing of time means and the consequences of ignoring the herald of each minute that ticks by.

Whenever I re-read this book, I’m gob-smacked that it’s a debut novel. Taylor Greer just wants to avoid the fate of her peers—unwanted pregnancies and dead-end lives in the small Kentucky town where she was born—when she points her Volkswagen Bug due West in search of something different. She has no idea how different her life will become when she stops at a gas station in Oklahoma and a stranger puts a small child in the passenger seat of her car. The story of how Taylor and the child become a family with the help of some unlikely friends, is one that’s stayed with me from first read. Kingsolver’s writing is quietly and deeply dazzling and paints a stunning picture of what it means to find sanctuary, family, and home in a way you never imagined. 

I come from a fat family. The healthiest version of me is still fat to some people.

Growing up, I worried that no one would like me (or love me!) because of my size. I would have killed for a book like Fat Chance, Charlie Vega, whose protagonist shares those fears, even as she falls for a cute classmate and navigates the opinions of friends and family.

In a society that often excludes people her size, Charlie gets to be the lead in a fresh spin on high school love stories.