The most recommended books about sisters

Given that this novel is set in Mississippi in the 1950s, I was intrigued by the teen-aged friendship at its center. When Cassie, who’s black, and Judith, who’s white, learn that they have the same father, they decide to join forces in claiming their share of the family inheritance. The result is a sometimes perilous and even other-worldly road trip from Mississippi to Virginia, during which the girls’ budding relationship is sorely tested. 

This was a touching book about a mixed Korean girl who tries to help her sick grandmother, Halmoni, get better through the power of stories. With a bit of magical realism and Korean folklore brought to life, Lily finds her own voice (so she is no longer what she describes as a “QAG – quiet Asian girl”) and begins to understand her own ancestry. Like Lily, I found a connection to my heritage via stories and folklore.

I was blown away by this debut novel and the skill of its writer. It covered multiple perspectives, times, and locations, giving layered and deep insights into the Chinese invasion and annexation of Tibet, and its effects on Tibetans forced to become refugees, first in Nepal then in Canada.

A small clay statue, or ku, plays a central role endowed with profound meaning about cultural belonging, ownership, and appropriation. Through the varied interpretations of its form and facial expressions, it is both a character itself and a symbol of what other characters experience.
I found this to be a beautifully written, well-constructed, powerful, and moving tale of displacement, emphasizing the essential nature of homeland, how place shapes and defines us all, with much resonance in American Indigeneity.

The first time I read this book, I was blown away by how twisty and creepy it was.

Silla is a wonderfully complex heroine. Is she paranoid, or is the manor really cursed? How much is she imagining and how much is real? Every time I thought I knew where the book was going, I was wrong. It just gets weirder and more unsettling as the book progresses.

As I read it, I just kept thinking that things didn’t make sense. But it was so compelling that I couldn’t stop, even when I was very confused. The ending pulls it all together with a completely satisfying ending that explained every question I had. It goes darker than most YA, but I loved it for going all in.

Heather Blake’s first Wishcraft mystery is a captivating story that delightfully blends crime, magic, romance, and self-discovery. The suspense remains high throughout the book and is not an easy mystery to solve. The characters and plot are spellbinding and full of charm, enchantment, and humor. I especially love the animals who speak and help provide the clues.

I love how Raina reaches out of her largely autobiographical work and delves into the world of spirituality and folklore. There’s also the very realistic, dire, and looming “ghost” of the character Maya’s cystic fibrosis. In the story, Raina masterfully weaves reality and fantasy. It’s an engaging journey about overcoming fear with the help of family and friends. And, as all her books are, it’s beautifully illustrated. As someone with a pretty strong spiritual bent, this book really resonates with me.

This book hurt me. It really, really hurt me. First, it gave me hope. Then, it gave me a sinking feeling deep in my chest, followed by a sense of hopelessness and despair that really struck a nerve. And because it was all fiction and I was completely safe, it was an awesome and beautiful experience.

This novel explores a Puerto Rican American family living in Staten Island, New York, set in two timelines: the 1990s and today (in a nebulous time, pre-COVID). This book explores the Ramirez family as they grapple with the disappearance of the middle child, Ruthy, in the ‘90s.

Ruthy navigates 1990s New York with the reader while in the present day, her two sisters, Jessica and Nina, find a girl on TV that they believe looks a lot like Ruthy on a reality TV show. The present-day part of the novel not only explores the… show more.

When I read So Far From God, it did two things. First, it helped me understand this genre that was created by Latin American authors. Lois Parkinson Zamora said, “Magical realism is characterized by...its capacity to create (magical) meanings by envisioning ordinary things in extraordinary ways.” I understood what that meant when I read So Far From God. In the first chapter alone, one of the main characters, La Loca, dies and comes back to life. Her death was ordinary and extraordinary. I was hooked. 

Perhaps more importantly, in reading Castillo’s novel, I saw our shared Latina history, culture, and perspective through the stories she told. It was the first book that validated my experience as a Latina which is why it’ll always be close to my heart.

I loved reading this book to my kids, who were immediately drawn into the heartbreaking story of Judith, a girl with Down Syndrome, who was separated from her twin sister, Joyce, and institutionalized for many years. This separation led to great pain for both sisters, until decades later, when Joyce brought Judith home, and enrolled her in an art program for differently-abled people. Slowly, Judith flourished, going on to become an artist of renown, with work displayed in museums and galleries around the world. 

This tremendous story, of the bond between sisters, the therapeutic value of the creative process, and the potential for creating meaning and joy through artistic expression, helped my very young children develop empathy for and a deeper understanding of differently-abled people.

Miss Austen is Cassandra, sister of the more famous Jane, who takes centre stage in this story, though Jane is there, too, as the beloved missed sister, not the novelist. The year is 1840, Jane has been dead for twenty years, Cassandra is in her sixties and though frail is on a quest to find some missing letters which may reveal secrets about Jane and Cassandra which must not be known. It’s a mystery and we want to know if Cassandra will find those letters, but it is also a touching portrait of sisterly devotion. Cassandra makes an admirable heroine, determined and resourceful despite her frailty. It also tells much about the way in which spinsters, usually ignored by society, have a rich and complex inner life.