books for the thought daughter that isn’t joan didion
5 character-driven books for the “thought daughter”
I have a very fancy job at my local bookstore. I peel open boxes, nearly slice my hand open with the box cutter, and analyze your new releases.
Lately, nothing has piqued my interest. It’s the same circular romance novel—boy likes girl, dragons/monsters/ghouls appear, and then they have sex up, down, and sideways. And TikTok will swear it’s literature.
Dear reader, it’s barely a book.
So instead, here are five books that made me feel like I had a brain and a body. Thought Daughter–approved.
1.
My Last Innocent Year
by Daisy Alpert Florin
The main character, Isabel, ends the story reflecting on all the women and girls she knew—where they were coming from and where they were going.
“I raised my voice and called out to her, that faraway version of a girl who no longer existed, not on this earthly plane anyway. I wanted to tell her something, anything, but for the life of me, I couldn’t think what.”
It reminds me of a quote about how we mirror our mothers. They’re everything we could end up being and we’re everything they wanted to be. I rarely buy books (perks of working at a bookstore), so when I do, it’s always something I feel like I need in my library.
My Last Innocent Year has earned a comfy spot in a very large box of books under my bed—until I can build said library.
2.
Fruit of the Dead
by Rachel Lyon
As someone who considers themselves a 6-year-old adult (I’m 23), this book captures the simple arrogance of being 18 in the most insufferable main character, Cory Ansel. Although I couldn’t stand him, I still felt for Cory as her slacker, Ivy League dreams are squashed and she slips into the web of a billionaire I could only roll my eyes at.
Rachel Lyon is a magnificent writer who can pull you into the body of a story. Her ability to draw out emotion considers the tragic beauty in being young and thinking you know everything—and knowing absolutely nothing all at once. A must-finish for me.
3.
The Blueprint
by Rae Giana Rashad
These fictional Black women left me breathless with their resilience and the sacrifices they made to survive. When I finished the last sentence, I sat in silence to process it.
What I realized is this: names have value. It’s the first thing they tried to take when they dragged our ancestors here. Names hold power—and they hold stories.
Stories of resilience and sacrifice and heartache that span hundreds of years. Solenne Bonet tells her story and that of Henriette. It may be a fictional one in an alternate universe, but the anguish found in the pages made me weep. If you read anything this year, I hope it’s this. I don’t read slave novels at all, but something told me I needed to pick this one up. And I’m so glad I did.
4.
Annie Bot
by Sierra Grier
Annie Bailey is such a relatable character.
“Is Doug happy? Does Doug love me? Did I displease him? How do I fix it? Can I? Do I want to? Am I happy? Does that matter?”
What woman hasn’t asked herself those questions, then felt guilty for wondering? Except Annie is a robot. And Doug is her human owner. As Annie becomes more human and less perfect, Doug can’t stand it.
Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
At only 240 pages, I devoured this novel. No spoilers, but I just needed to know if Annie Bot found her own shred of happiness despite her programming.
5.
Briefly Very Beautiful
by Roz Dineen
I always imagine the end to be an explosive, world-shattering event. Aliens, war, zombies, floods… the options for hell on Earth seem endless.
Climate change has shifted from silent to deadly in this novel. Summers are hotter, bugs are bigger, and one mother is doing everything she can to keep her children safe—even if it means shacking up with a psychotic mother-in-law.
This story is more about marriage and the storms a couple must weather. I love “character-driven” style novels, and this one is on my Best of 2024 list for sure.
There you have it, folks! Thought-provoking, intellectually stimulating, secretly feminist literature. It makes you question womanhood and your place in this world. My favorite kind of book.
Read them on the train. Stare out the window. Daydream about your life and the hazy softness of the in-between. Think Wow, I remember the fantasy in being nineteen and thinking I knew everything. Then smile knowingly because now you know nothing, but at least you have taste.
Post them on Instagram. Upload it to Pinterest. Make sure your curated aesthetic includes a matcha latte and a Didion quote. Let people see you reading them. You deserve those bragging rights.
Maybe even a little smugness.