Fans pick 100 books like The Original Adventures of Hank the Cowdog

I love this book because of Enzo, the canine narrator. In fact, he may be my favorite narrator of all time. He is one of those narrators I would love to be friends with or who I would love to have as a professor or a spiritual guide. 

The first time I tried reading it I put it down because I ugly-cried in the first chapter when Enzo recounted the story of how he planned to simplify his beloved human’s life. Thankfully, a trusted friend convinced me to give it another try because it’s now one of my all-time favorite books. Coming from an English teacher of twenty plus years, who reads a lot of good books, I think that's pretty high praise.

Yes, I cried a lot in this one, too, but I also laughed and did not want to leave Enzo or the humans he loved so dearly… show more.

My dad used to read to me every night as a kid, and among my favorites were those of the whimsical Dr. Seuss-esque variety.

While this book isn’t technically penned by Dr. Seuss, it maintains the same whimsy through its illustrations. The simplicity of the text helped me learn to identify words as a small kid. Upon revisiting the book as an adult, I am also delighted by the blunt honesty of the illustrated dogs.

My dad passed away recently, and the memory of him reading this book to me has become even more cherished.

I was a lonely child despite having friends and siblings. I was (still am) an awkward kid who only felt at ease with a book, a cat or two (or twelve), and a dog (or four). But the dogs of my childhood were not mine. They belonged to my siblings and parents, so I was beset with dog envy.

Family turmoil delayed my turn as a dog owner until I was a young adult. Through all those years of waiting and wishing, this book reminded me that the experience of owning and loving dogs is mostly wonderful, sometimes painful, and always unforgettable. What’s more, the rural setting was so hauntingly familiar that it may as well have been my own house, yard, and woods.

I love this novel for its hilarious, unique take on the rage-against-the-patriarchy trope. Elizabeth Zott, the novel’s lead, is a refreshing portrayal of a woman battling the world of mansplaining while doing it in the most stereotypically “female” way—cooking up a storm! As a chemist, her scientific breakdowns of how ingredients chemically react with one another make for many humourous moments on the page. 

This is a book that will have you hooting with laughter and rooting alongside the protagonist till the very end. It mirrored the frustrations I have often felt as a working woman and left me vindicated for the times I, too, have “behaved badly” in male company.

Technically, Stephanie Plum isn’t an amateur sleuth because she works as a bounty hunter, but since she was never trained and tends to succeed despite her bungling and ineptitude, I consider her an amateur sleuth. Besides, when you’re sorely in need of a good laugh to release some endorphins, you can’t go wrong spending a few hours with Stephanie and her colorful cohorts. This twenty-seventh outing in the long-running series is one of the best when it comes not only to the humor, but it offers up a well-plotted story, and lots of red herrings. Plus, there’s plenty of Grandma Masur in this one. What more could you ask for?

I laugh out loud at the awkward social situations Lady Georgina, 34th in succession to the throne of England, gets into.

Although she has been trained in all the proper graces, she is impoverished, and I find her creative, muddled attempts to figure out who murdered the body in her bathtub while meeting royal expectations endearing and amusing. I also enjoy glimpses into the mores of the royal family in 1930. 

Like a lot of folks, I found out about this book when the movie version came out, Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

The world-building in the movie was so compelling and unique that I decided to pick up the book. And I’m so glad that I did. The plot in the book is much more complicated, and the social satire is even sharper. One of my all-time favorite noir mysteries.

One of my favorite characters in this middle-grade mystery has always been Chris Theodorakis, the teen boy with an unnamed neurological condition that confines him to a wheelchair and, for the most part, to his house.

Even if he can’t leave home—and even if people often look away from him when he does—Chris plays a key role in solving the mystery at the heart of the book by being a keen observer of everything that passes in front of his window. I love how this novel depicts Chris’s inner world to young readers, including his awareness of how his condition affects others’ perceptions.

More importantly, it shows how much people with disabilities and illnesses still have to offer. 

This witty young adult novel cleverly up-ends the traditional vampire mythology.

These Australian urban vamps are sickly, socially isolated, and barely able to defend themselves. Fifteen-year-old Nina has been a vampire since 1973. She’s part of a group of vamps who meet once a week for therapy sessions to help them refrain from attacking humans.

When one of their members is murdered, they decide to track their enemy, assuming that once the slayer sees how pathetic and harmless they are they’ll be left alone. Ill-equipped for danger, Nina and her fellow vamps stumble into a world of guns, thugs, werewolves, and vicious humans.

This is a fun read, packed with plenty of suspense, a clever plot, and a nice sprinkle of understated romance.

In The Sisters Brothers, Patrick deWitt pulls off the difficult task of making hired killers captivating. The sibling antiheroes go on a journey across the western landscape while contemplating their inner selves. In many ways weird, The Sisters Brothers ties a sometimes sad story together in a neat package. The book is a fascinating take on the traditional western.