99 books like The Complete Tales of Winnie-The-Pooh

There is no doubt that this book is the classic example of a real kid with fantasy creatures. Not the first, but the one I return to over and over again. The first time I read it, I thought, “drat! Why didn’t I write this book?”

Not only is the story multi-layered, it is a story that reads like a poem and it has an unforgettable last line. 

I love children’s books that provide lessons for both kids and adults.

The salient friendship is not between the stuffed rabbit and the boy but between the stuffed rabbit and another toy—the Skin Horse. The life lessons for adults are revealed mainly through the discussions between the Velveteen Rabbit and the Skin Horse. About love, loss, aging, and what true love truly means. Pay close attention to the part where the Skin Horse, old and wise, explains what it means to be “real.” 

I recognized myself as one of those people who “breaks easily” or has “to be carefully kept.” Life altered this, but this book raised my awareness. Published in 1922, some of the language is old-fashioned, but I find that makes it more charming. 

I’m absolutely obsessed with this book.

It earned a spot on the 2014 Gittle List, a contest I hosted for 5 years for self-published children’s book authors. I’ve purchased several copies for both children and adults. Somewhere, there’s a video of my grandson reading it to me (well, a couple of pages).

It’s unique in character, words, and pace. Seeing the two characters becoming friends, being the closest of friends, having a fallout that separates them, and finding their way back to each other moved me to tears because that is what my son and I were doing, at the time. Finding our way back to each other.

The lessons of forgiveness and humility flow naturally without ever saying those words explicitly. 

Have you ever listened to a song that was just okay? But after hearing it several times, it grew on you? This is a book that I originally gave a 4-star review. But then I read it a few times more. Then I read it aloud. I just updated the review to 5 stars.

It’s a fun rhyming story about the assumptions we make about others—often based on bad information. Kids will enjoy a very humorous story about a monster who fears “hue-mans” who befriends a boy who fears monsters. Adults will have discovered a book about diversity with awesome illustrations that can be read on demand repeatedly without going insane.

Shepard’s roughly-hatched illustrations are a symbiotic match for the scruffy charm and humour of Milne’s stories.

Only a couple of chapters feature snow, but they loom so large in my imagination—Pooh and Piglet following their own footsteps in search of the legendary Heffalump; and building Eeyore’s new house at Pooh Corner to shelter him from the snowstorm (unwittingly using Eeyore’s existing house as their source of wood).

As Eeyore gets buried in the snow, I can feel the cold wind with each economical scratch of Shepherd’s pen nib.

A group of toys discarded by their former owners get together to find a new home and someone to love them. I love this book because it shows children that they need to take responsibility for taking care of their possessions. By personifying these toys, kids learn how easily a friend or loved one’s feelings can be hurt. It helps them learn about empathy and compassion. Readers get the message that respecting feelings and the rights of others is a desirable trait.

Who cannot love a serious but accessible book that obsesses about things like Pokémon, the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, and Tamagotchi (those annoying and addictive “digital pets” that were a millennial fad)?

Anne Allison’s volume was a real eye-opener for me on the place of monsters in youth culture, as a form of play, and how monsters have been commercialized and globalized over the past half century. It is incredible that, in the early twenty-first century, American kids were more likely to embrace Pikachu and Godzilla than the archetypal monsters of Western culture like Dracula and Frankenstein. Allison helped me understand why Japanese monsters are now conquering the globe.

Two Black teenagers in New York are thrown back in time to the Civil War era. Suddenly the similarities and differences of what it means to be Black in America are also thrown into relief, past and present both converging and clashing. Genna is our first-person narrator, and through her, we live fully in two worlds—one in which she struggles to go to college and leave behind the dangers of her Brooklyn neighborhood and one in which she struggles to stay alive in a volatile society which offers little support to the poor and vulnerable of any race.

Koala is the most terrible! He has a terrible face. And terrible paws. And terrible eyes that follow you everywhere! If you love to make up voices, you will find that Adam's repeat of "I don't like Koala" is subversively fun. Unleash your inner naughty child! When Adam receives Koala as a gift, he thinks there can be nothing more terrifying. His parents don't understand and all attempts to ditch this crazy stuff toy come to nothing. And then one night, Adam worries there might be something even more terrible than Koala. This one is absolutely brilliant as a read-aloud.

Edward Tulane is a vain, selfish, coldhearted toy rabbit. And, except for the toy rabbit part, I am Edward Tulane. That’s why I needed this book.

Whilst the family is on the Queen Mary, Edward is cast overboard, like Jonah. Outside the bosom of his family, Edward is largely unloved and disrespected. Through many trials and tribulations, he is reunited with his family. It’s classic Odyssey territory, except that Edward’s trials broaden his perspective and enable him to appreciate – and, yes, love – those who love him.

Edward may be merely a toy rabbit, but he stands in for all of us who need to die in order to live.