100 books like What My Bones Know

This gripping story shows you the true power of perseverance and how stories of pain can end with us.

It is hope bottled up in a book that helps us to understand how the stories that we come from don’t have to be the same stories that come from us. Viola Davis will leave you feeling like you had an intimate conversation with a longtime friend and now you understand her with greater depth and deeper compassion.

The language she uses to tell her story will tug at your heart, perhaps because of the beautiful prose, or maybe because for many of us, this is also the story of our very own lives.

Relayed in the voice of his nine-year-old self, Solito tracks Zamora’s harrowing three-thousand-mile trek from his home in El Salvador to join his mother and father in California.

To reunite with his parents, he must leave behind everything else he has ever known: his village, his friends, his grandparents, and his beloved Tia Mali. What is supposed to be a two-week journey turns into a two-month odyssey, as he makes his way north by bus, boat, and foot, accompanied by a group of strangers who, in time, close ranks to nurture and protect him like a second family.

This affecting story, told with such innocence and immediacy, makes evident the individual, human costs that are too easily overlooked by reporting on US immigration and the staggering statistics that it invariably emphasizes.

April is the kind of character everyone roots for. She’s sixteen and fending for herself after her crappy father abandoned her in a motor home with no engine.

Teens who grow up like April have grit built into their DNA, and when she takes off for a new life, she soars. The problem is, our past has a way of dragging us backward, and seeing April fight to keep the life and friends she’s built is what makes you keep turning the pages. Oh, and also, she has a beautiful skill. April can sing. 

Reading this book is akin to watching a flower bloom; you can’t help but be in awe.

In this searing story of redemption, Safiya Sinclair helped me capture a vivid story of how legacies of patriarchal values that are situated in religion, encourage women to abandon themselves, leaving us in a state of perpetual and multigenerational suppression, that prove to be traumatic.

This book took me to new insights on the inner workings of religious trauma, placing that trauma within a patriarchal history that is very much alive today, not just in Jamaica, where the memoir is centered, but in all parts of the world.

I was able to see pieces of this story in my very own North American, Black, and Dominican communities, because this memoir pushed me to look within myself and the patriarchal socialization that I too have experienced.

This book has a clear message; it is in the telling of our stories that we can also find freedom from legacies of pain. It’s… show more.

Growing up in a household where both of my parents battled crack addiction was extremely difficult. It caused deep-seated feelings of resentment, anger, and a profound lack of trust in both my parents and society as a whole. Not being able to rely on my parents, and witnessing them consistently choose drugs over their family, was incredibly painful, especially for a child.

Reading this book brought me closer to my parents and helped me understand that their addiction was just a symptom of a much larger issue that extended beyond our home. I found a connection with characters like Elgin Swift and delving into the crack epidemic during the time my parents were growing up was truly eye-opening.

This experience allowed me to feel a deeper bond with my parents and gain a better understanding of their struggles. 

I highly recommend this book to anyone who has loved ones facing… show more.

ET is a formidable force, and this book unequivocally proves it.

It underscores the importance of taking control of your life and embarking on the journey to become the best version of yourself – something we all aspire to. ET breaks down this journey and shares the secrets to waking up, taking action, and uncovering your "why."

I highly recommend this book to anyone in search of motivation and a roadmap for achieving their full potential. It serves as a vital first step that we all must take, which in return will lead us to build a support network of village members on our path towards greatness.

In a weaving of revelatory family secrets and cultural insights, Prachi Gupta helps us to understand not only how our personal lives are truly political, but also how politics are used as a tool to divide us.

In this beautifully crafted part memoir, part theory, part personal chronicle, we are able to see how stereotypes in the U.S. have been created to divide and conquer entire communities of marginalized folks, leaving families in shambles along the way.

A key takeaway I gathered was the anti-Black racism embedded in the model minority myth and the ways in which racism and its different iterations, in many ways, hurts both the oppressed and the people it’s positioned to privilege. 

This book at times feels like poetry and written with such profundity.

Grappling with deep physical pain, Jen Soriano, a daughter of a neurosurgeon, comes upon a hard truth about the origins of her physical pain; a history of generational trauma and her family’s absorption of a painful history of colonization of the Phillipines.

This poignant memoir helped me understand, at a personal level, how the body starts to give up when we carry the emotional wounds of the past, how neurodivergence intersects with historical trauma, and reminds us that freedom from pain is indeed possible.

As a trauma psychologist, it was both humbling and enlightening to receive the author’s personal accounts of intergenerational trauma and intergenerational healing.

For Morris, war was a siren call, “exalting” work that allowed him to “challenge death.” But once redeployed to the safety of America, he realized that months and years of waiting for the next bomb to explode had taught his body to react to potential threats in the environment that his mind rightfully ignored. A sack of trash at the side of the road. A car backfiring. A restless crowd. For the combat veteran, these everyday triggers can generate a crippling flashback or a spiraling panic, the body shooting up flares of alarm before the mind has time to recognize that in America, a bag of trash is just trash. The Evil Hours is a brilliant, evocative, and often poetic portrayal of one man’s quest to leave the war behind.

Some books are fascinating character studies. Others are riveting stories. When Rabbit Howls is somehow both.

Narrated by a woman’s alters (The Troops for Trudi Chase), this book really goes the extra mile in terms of forcing the reader to feel the lifetime impact of abuse both through the story being told, and the way that story is written on the page. I won’t spoil anything here, but it includes a brilliant, metafictional ending that has lingered with me for years now like a punch to the solar plexus.