Love The Day the World Came to Town? Readers share 77 books like The Day the World Came to Town...

This book is a bit different from my other recommendations. It’s not a fantasy. What it is is a series of books to make you laugh, cry, think, and most of all, want to go live in the imaginary town of Mitford, North Carolina. This is a small town where the phrase “Mitford takes care of its own” is sometimes hard but always rewarding. Reverend Tim Cavanough is a flawed man with a heart of gold who is in the mid to later stage in life and takes care of his flock of often eccentric, lovable townsfolk with a heart of love. I was with a friend one time walking through a little town in West Virginia, and we had both finished Ms. Karon’s books. The town and its folks reminded us of Mitford with its quaint charm. 

This novel follows four adolescents in the 48 hours preceding September 11, 2001.

The characters are two girls and two boys living in different parts of the United States in very different families. By fully depicting the lives of each character before the world abruptly changed, Baskin shows us how a watershed event changes one’s perspective forever.

My favorite moment comes at the end when a character remembers “that day, a year ago, when nothing else was important to her except fitting in.” Without violence or direct loss to the main characters, Baskin brings home the point that September 11th affected Americans from all across the country.

In the face of tragedy, Baskin shows us how we are all interconnected.

A book rarely brings me to tears. I didn’t know what to expect when I first picked up this one. The main thing I love about this book is that it takes you right into the head of the main character, who happens to be a very precocious nine-year-old boy. Outwardly, the main character is on an adventure to solve a mystery, but inwardly, he’s on a journey to come to terms with his father’s death.

The protagonist–who, on the surface, is nothing like me–made me feel and address things I had not come to terms with in my life. I felt myself struggling along with the character, and then I ultimately began to heal with him, too. It’s a powerful, tragic, yet absolutely hilarious story that allowed me to forget myself for a while before realizing that I was learning about myself the entire time I read it.

Chris Fabry writes southern fiction, and the small town at the heart of this story is Emmaus, WV. Now, I’ve never lived in the south nor have I spent more than a couple of days there, but Fabry’s earnest and fun story reminds me that people (and small towns) are the same everywhere. Whether you live in rural Montana, like me, or the rich hills of West Virginia, knowing your neighbors and living in community is a treasure greater than the gold folks hunt for in this gem of a book.

I’ve lived in Montana for over twenty years, so any books related to Montana get my attention. This book in particular, however, is so much more than just a memoir about growing up in the wilds of Big Sky Country. It’s a beautiful and poetic masterpiece that pays homage to the tiny towns and quirky community members that gave Ivan Doig a sense of home and family as a child. I enjoyed reading the familiar names of towns and mountains that I’ve grown to love during my time in Montana, and I especially appreciate how Doig shows us that the size of people’s hearts is more important than the size of their town.

Not only is the small-town, rural setting of this book beautifully written, it is also so honest and real. Every community faces challenges and has shortcomings, regardless of its size, and I appreciate that Amy K. Sorrells doesn’t shy away from that. Lead Me Home also includes a neurodivergent character, which really resonated with me because one of my children is neurodivergent as well. Small towns can be a great place for kids with special needs because of the extra safety, slower pace of life, and sense of community. But they can also be a challenging place for kids with special needs because of the lack of resources, diversity, and opportunity. This is my favorite book by Amy K. Sorrells so far.

The book captures the picture-perfect life of a brown-skinned immigrant who finds it all rose-tinted living it up in New York.

The scales fall after 9/11 when faced with shifting allegiances and overt suspicions. The author slowly builds up a gnawing tension as we wait for the protagonist to teeter over the edge, as the isolation and resentment eats away inside him spiraling into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

The book touched me as a person of South Asian descent, having faced unconscious bias. The book delineates the perspective of “the other”, where the unfamiliar is made to feel like a convenient scapegoat in times of crisis.

However, there is more that unites us than divides us - and we can try to change the world one person at a time.

An American Muslim is chosen blindly by a jury to design a memorial to the 9/11 victims, opening it up to vociferous debates and dissensions, much like the Ground Zero Mosque controversy.

The author uses her vast experience as a New York Times journalist to eloquently describe the warps and wefts of the fabric of New York society, and starts tugging at several threads as it all unravels. The players’ tug-of-war is well portrayed in rich texture, while the politicians’ intent on not letting a good crisis go to waste adds satirical color to the expansive tapestry.

As a creator, one feels that art has no religion and has no boundaries. The axiom is severely tested in the face of rabid nationalism, parochial intolerance, and a media free-for-all.

I admired the thorough and bi-partisan approach taken by the 9/11 Commission (authorized by then President George Bush) to examine the international, national, and local ramifications of the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon.

Relying on first-hand testimony and extensive documentation, the commission staff provided valuable insights into the missed signals, mixups, and government failures on many levels that left America open to the worst attack on our homeland since the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

When it comes down to explaining anomalous phenomena, my default position is to first consider physical laws.

However, I am also cognizant that science is catching up with explaining the mysteries of our universe. In the fabric of her well-researched book, McEneaney weaves stories and testimonials from various families, all the while sharing tangible details on the heroic people who suddenly passed.

She persuades the reader that many of those directly impacted by the death of a loved one lost on September 11, 2001, received “signs”. I strongly feel that McEneaney’s book provides a weighty perspective not just of the evil, terrorist-based historical events that shaped the state of our world, but also a glimpse into why the soul is often referred to and defined as “immortal.” A must-read in a post-pandemic era.