100 books like Ten Steps to Nanette

I wasn't an orphan, I wasn’t raised on a farm, and no one teased me for my ordinary brown hair, but my identification with “carrot topped” Anne Shirley was immersive and all consuming. I could smell the flowers and taste the russet apples she delights in, and I could feel the unrelenting joie de vivre that, despite life’s many slings and arrows, courses through her childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood.

This book may date from 1905, but this beloved story of an orphan girl who comes to live with an aging brother and sister on their farm on Prince Edward Island has lost nothing of its irresistible charm. An awkward outsider looking in upon a world she longs to join, outspoken, feisty, wildly imaginative Anne came alive for me and won my heart from the moment I met her on the page. 

As a lifelong lover and reader of science fiction, I’m always impressed when I come across a modern book and series that feels fresh or novel to me. That’s precisely what I got from The Murderbot Diaries at a time when I really needed it, which has made it one of my go-to sci-fi recommendations in recent years, particularly as someone who appreciates a bit of tasteful humor and snark in my futuristic adventures through space.

In the young adult novel, Exactly Where You Need to Be, best friends Florie and Kacey sneak off on a road trip in order to indulge their shared obsession with a true crime podcast.

Because of her O.C.D., Florie has often restricted her activities—she’s been homeschooled, doesn’t plan to go to college upon high school graduation, and has most of her life tightly controlled by her mother—and this road trip is an opportunity for her to challenge herself, as well as to test her strength and capabilities. 

I personally love this book because it is doing things I’d like to see more of in fiction: depicting a condition like O.C.D. as an important aspect of a person’s life, without either romanticizing it or making the character some sort of victim. And what’s more: Coombs’s novel showcases what supportive, accepting friendships and relationships can look like.

My friend Vanessa gave me this part memoir/part investigation of how, why, and to what end neurodiversity is often misunderstood or overlooked in women. (I wonder why? Just kidding. I know why.)

I so appreciate how Nerenberg approaches neurodiversity not as a problem, but as, at core, simply a difference. And difference, as well know, can be difficult, but it can also be rad.

This is a must-read if you kind of suspect you might be neurodiverse and want to learn more, or if you know you’re neurodiverse and are looking for a book that will make you feel less alone, as well as will offer a hopeful and empowering perspective. Thanks, Vanessa!

I love bad-ass women who take the world by storm. I love it when they’re funny. I love it when they share their journey. Amy Poehler, badass writer/comedian, wrote her memoir in the form of a self-help book. The self-help aspect is in disguise, though. You’re supposed to think it’s a memoir/fun celebrity tell-all, but it’s way more than that. It’s a bossy bitchy blueprint on how to get through life with humor and honesty and loads of funny stories. 

Some of her advice: Talk To Yourself Like You’re Ninety and Treat Your Career Like A Bad Boyfriend. Amy’s snarky, smart, and silly stories about her successes and failures inspire me to be a badass, too. Humor and snark and advice. Yes, please!

Nick Hornby is one of my favorite writers, and About a Boy is one of my favorite books of all time.

I love how his prose is pared down but so profound; every sentence, however simple, carries weight, and his characterization is wonderfully human. In this book, Hornby champions mainstream entertainment, something I’m passionate about, as I can’t stand cultural snobbishness.

It’s an homage to a golden age of light entertainment, and, like television comedy, this is a book that "makes us all part of something."

Manzano played Maria for more than 40 years on Sesame Street, but this isn’t a book about that show. A sort of next-gen, nonfiction companion to Dominicana, it tells the story of Manzano’s hard-knock childhood in the South Bronx, and how her gifts as an actor and storyteller propelled her out of a rough neighborhood and troubled home (her father physically abused her mother.) Manzano doesn’t paper over the anger she felt and still feels about the systemic forces that ghettoized Hispanic kids like her. But she succeeds in offering hope and modeling Nuyorican success to latter-day versions of her young self.

What appeals to me most is Sir David Jason telling how playing characters such as Derek Trotter, Granville, Pop Larkin, and Frost changed his life in all sorts of ways. I like his quote that: “With any luck, some of these thoughts and observations will chime with episodes and challenges you have faced, or are facing, in your own life. And if they don't... well, hopefully, at the very least you'll get to have a good old laugh at my expense.”

If you’ve watched the recent Netflix series about Tembi Locke and her Sicilian chef husband, you only know half the story. Locke’s memoir, beautifully told, concentrates on (spoiler alert) her healing after her husband’s death. Recently widowed, she traveled to her husband’s tiny Sicilian village to inter his ashes. Although in many ways she dreaded going to Sicily (and her mother-in-law’s house) she is drawn to a simpler way of life from the one she has in Los Angeles. For several succeeding summers she and her daughter return to her husband’s hometown in which little has changed for centuries. Except for the local priest from Africa, they are the only people of color. Locke’s journey is one from despair and exasperation to healing and appreciation.

With a codependent mother relationship that feeds into various forms of abuse (CW: eating disorders being one of them) and Hollywood as the backdrop for this coming-of-age story, this is an important, unforgettable memoir.

It’s a gift to be so darkly funny and honest as a nonfiction writer, particularly when your own deep vulnerability is in service of something larger. Written in short numbered passages that span McCurdy’s life from early childhood into adulthood, this true story is a perfect rollercoaster.

Both laugh-out-loud funny and deliriously sad, there’s never a moment you won’t feel held by this book and this writer.