100 books like Summer Sisters

I’m a sucker for YA and love triangles, and the love triangle between Belly, Conrad, and Jeremiah is one for the ages!

Watching Belly come alive in Cousins is such a delight, and from the moment both boys see Belly emerge from the car that summer, I couldn’t put the book down. Belly’s crush on Conrad delivers such good teenage pining. 

This enemies-to-lovers story about a romance writer and a literary fiction writer who strike a bet to write their next book in each other’s genre blew me away with its hilarious dialogue and realistic emotional stakes.

January struggles to write another Happily Ever After upon learning her recently deceased father had a secret life with another woman. She goes to deal with his beach house, only to find that her college writing rival is her neighbor for the summer.

As part of Gus and January’s renewed rivalry, they go on a series of dates to teach each other about their genre, and they develop mutual professional respect that bleeds into attraction.

One highlight is when they write flirty notes and hold them up through their neighboring windows. This is a true rom-com, so hilarious and sexy, but it commits to realism and reaches for heavy, heart-wrenching emotional stakes and the… show more.

This book drenched me in the romance of a woman escaping her real life, and for most of the book, it made me want to fly to Positano and never return.

I loved how Serle uses magical realism to help Katy grieve the loss of her mother and explore how she feels about her own marriage. I was heartbroken and in awe throughout the book, and I’ve never seen a mother-daughter relationship explored so tenderly as Katy and Carol. 

This book is about a young man and woman who had a chance encounter as university students and became close friends. This book follows a will-they-won’t-they trajectory and struck a deep chord with me because it shows how one serendipitous encounter can change your life forever and how relationships of all nature are dynamic, subject to ebb and flow. The differences in character between the protagonists—bookish, no-nonsense Emma and the laissez-faire playboy Dexter—also added to the dramatic and romantic tension.

This novel has a strange mix of lightness and depth that I found very satisfying. I also enjoyed the 2011 movie based on the book starring Anne Hathaway; it’s what drew my attention to the book in the first place.

In this book, George Eliot’s novel of provincial life in 1830s England, nearly everyone marries the wrong person. Even the future happiness of its heroine, Dorothea, when she finally unites with her true love, Will, is questionable. And yet it stands for me, not only as one of the finest novels ever written but one of literature’s greatest romances.

Virginia Woolf famously wrote that it is a novel “for grown-up people.” I believe it is essential reading because it reflects real life where couples are mismatched, love goes unrequited, and ambitions are thwarted. It illuminates the small ways our better selves become compromised—and the larger gestures by which we are redeemed. As Eliot’s characters zigzag their way to each other, it is love that brings this redemption. How very romantic!

The logline sounds like the most depressing character study you’ll ever read. A story of a pregnant teenager, Jane, who lives with her mom after the death of her father. Jane spends her days delivering pizzas and her nights drinking beers alone in a shed behind their house. But thanks to the prose, and the pacing of the plotting, this book is both funny, engaging, and something of a psychological thriller. Especially when Jane becomes obsessed with one of her regulars, a stay-at-home mom. We marveled at Kyoung Frazier’s ability to put us in the head of Jane, in a way that we actually wanted to stay there.

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.

Jo Walton is a wonderfully humanistic storyteller with a deep knowledge of history and art who excels at creating alternate societies, and I was fascinated to see her work on a deliberately smaller, more intimate scale in this novel. The text is made up of the diary entries of Morgana, a precocious teenager who is a voracious science fiction and fantasy reader, as is Jason Velez in my novel. Though published in 2011, the book begins at the end of the 70s and perfectly captures the period.

Among Others excels at character development. It feels like a literary mainstream novel about a young person–imagine, say, the best of Judy Blume–smartly mixed in with glimpses of the fantastic. It wears its love for 70s science fiction on its sleeve and won the Hugo and Nebula awards. 

I recommend The Last of Her Kind by Sigrid Nunez because I found it an absorbing portrait of a friendship in which I wasn’t sure if the two people in it even liked each other. Georgette, called George, is from a working-class family, and Ann is her wealthy college roommate. It is the late 1960s. For me, the book had a fresh angle on the protest movements. George’s focus in college is trying to pull herself up.

To me, George and Ann’s friendship is like a house on a cliff–dangerous, depending on what door you open. This book has stayed with me because it explores why people remain friends, even if the relationship is difficult to the point of pain. 

White Oleander, the 2002 film, was one of the most shocking and nuanced depictions of motherhood I had ever seen onscreen—I had to read the book. What most transfixed me about the story is, on the surface, Astrid’s mother and foster mothers had everything society tells you should make life a cakewalk: beauty, ingenuity, and, in one case, wealth.

But the truth is, they are all battling a host of demons, ultimately blessing and cursing Astrid with their flawed, life-worn wisdom. Even still, I love that author Janet Fitch never sacrifices the women to easy “bad mother” stereotypes. It’s clear each mother is mostly doing the best she knows how to outsmart a world riddled with traps.