The Giving Tree [1]
Shel Silverstein, 1964
For a book deemed "Kindergarten to Second Grade" level, this book has some pretty deep themes. A boy takes and takes, while his poor friend the tree just gives and gives and gives, until eventually it has nothing left to offer the world but a tired, soulless shell worth no more than its weight in future IKEA furniture. It's a heartbreaking commentary and if you were born in the 70s, you probably got this at your 8th birthday party from that aunt you never see.
It's noted [2] that "Silverstein had difficulty finding a publisher for The Giving Tree." An editor at Simon & Schuster [3] rejected the book's manuscript because he felt that it was "too sad" for children and "too simple" for adults." Well, good thing it eventually found a home because no other book of its era has so succinctly summarized exactly what parenting feels like.
This one is good for reading to your kids when you're feeling a bit passive aggressive and/or feeling like they stole your youth.
Tissue Factor: 3/5 tissues and one "I gave my life to you, you ingrates!" speech.
The Shrinking of Treehorn [4]
Florence Parry Heide, 1971
Treehorn has some issues, the least among them his unique name. Treehorn has - by all accounts - loving parents and a warm home. What he lacks however, is attention in that he is literally shrinking before their very eyes and they seem not the least bit interested. I know we all get busy and many things our children say go unheard, but I'd like to think if my children were suddenly small enough to fit into a teacup I would at very least take them to a walk-in clinic.
The book has beautiful pen and ink images, and the black and white illustrations underscore the simplicity of the text. Poor Treehorn. He's so accepting of his fate and it makes my heart hurt. I want to put him in my pocket and keep him as a little pet.
Tissue Factor: 3 trips to the macrame owl-covered tissue box.
Charlotte's Web [5]
E. B. White, 1952
It's a classic and so is the message: Tiny runt piglets are super cute and pretty much everyone you like dies. It's pretty much all you need in a sad read.
Tissue Factor: 2/5 tissues. I'd award more, but...bacon.
Beat the Turtle Drum [6]
Constance C. Greene, 1976
I'm a going to spoil both the book and your day:
Some sad shit is about to be said....
..... get ready .....
This books is a story about two close and loving young sisters, 11 and 13, and the devastation brought on by the sudden and tragic death of one. I read this book when I was the same age as one of the main characters and I can remember sitting in my bedroom alone, thinking "What the &*%$ just happened here?"
In a word, the death scene and subsequent grief-filled summer are shattering. The simply told story from the perspective of one of the sisters does more to describe longing and loss than almost anything I've read since.
Tissue Factor: You better get a Costco size-box.
Flowers for Algernon [7]
Daniel Keyes, 1959
While not technically a children's book, this science-fiction novel was likely one of your first forays into a more "grown up" genre of literature. Charlie Gordon is a mentally-handicapped man (although the book uses less savoury terms to describe his intellect but get a semi-pass under "historical license" exceptions) whose parents disagree on how to raise him. Through his contacts at the state-school he attends, he undergoes an experimental procedure shown to have increased intelligence in mice - most specifically, Algernon.
The experiment on Charlie is an unqualified success. Or is it? (It is not.)
Also: People are real assholes aka When does the liquor store open
Tissue Factor: 4/5 tissues and one "I-just-can't-even with people today."
Go Ask Alice [8]
Anon/Beatrice Sparks,1971
Initially marketed as an anonymous novel based on a true account, Go Ask Alice is a fascinating story about how drugs can really fuck you up. While the real author has since been "discovered" and the novel is now marketed as fiction, the morale of the story rings true.
As a teenager I loved this book. It was scary and thrilling and had me feeling pretty good about my milque-toast by comparison life choices. Re-reading the book as a mother, my feeling were decidedly more "there but for the grace of God go I."
Do you have teenagers? They need to read this book.
Tissue Factor: Kids: 1/5 tissues; if you're reading as a parent: Bring back up.
Bridge to Terabithia [9]
Katherine Paterson, 1977
Paterson won the Newbery Medal [10] for this novel, an award for "the most distinguished contribution to American literature for children."
It's an unwritten criteria that in order to win this prestigious award, their must be at least one death attributed to tragic and sudden circumstances. This coupled with a magical water-coloured fantasy land made Bridge to Terabithia a shoo-in.
Tissue Factor: A pile of soggy tissue.
The Outsiders [11]
S. E. Hinton, 1967
If you attended school in North America between 1970 and...well, today... you've read The Outsiders, seen the movie, and maybe even had the poster. The late 60s novel gained a massive following a decade into it's print, and it's been controversial since. Kids as young as 14 years-old drink, smoke, and participate in gang violence and some pretty anti-establishment behaviour. It's astonishing to think the author was only 15 when she started the novel and 16 when she completed it.
I have a 16 year-old. She's completed several thousand bottles of hair conditioner.
The Outsiders is sharp around the edges and it hurts to read, and it provides this litmus test for literary respect - if you recognize this reference, you have mine: "Stay gold, Ponyboy."
Tissue Factor: Like that feeling you had the time your dog chewed open a bottle of painkillers from your wisdom tooth extraction and you thought you were going to have to tell your kids their beloved dog died. (She's fine; I'm $700 poorer.)
The Year it Rained [12]
Crescent Dragonwagon,1985
This is my desert island novel. It is smart, and funny, and mournful, and hopeless and hopeful and... why are you still here? GO READ IT.
I found this novel on a YA shelf in my local library when I was 16 years-old and I have re-read it yearly since. When I was in my 20s, I saw the original copy I had checked out at a table sale. The library had a new edition and was selling this one, so I now own the copy I held in my hands when I was a teenager. This book tackles depression and young sex and longing. It shows teenagers navigating the complicated adult world they are soon being thrown into.
Oh, and there is this:
Tissue Factor: I'm still recovering and it's been 30 years so I'll let you know.
Where the Lillies Bloom [13]
Vera and Bill Cleaver, 1970
A dirt poor family literally scraping the land to survive in the Appalachian mountains... that's sad enough to make this book qualify for this list. BUT WAIT; THERE'S MORE.
Add a dead mother, a dying father - no wait; now he's dead too - four kids under the age of 16 who the now deceased dad wants to stay together, a creepy landlord who wants to marry one of the young daughters, and the sad reality that natural talent means pretty much nothing when you have zero means an no personal agency to cultivate it.
I need a drink.
Tissue Factor: "Had to call in sick because serious cry face eye bags" levels.
Abel's Island [14]
William Steig, 1976
Another Newbery winner, this is one book I can't read without crying. There's something about Abel's isolation that gets me right in the feel sack.
The story begins with Abel and his wife enjoying a lovely picnic. The lovebirds - err, lovemice - seek shelter in cave during a sudden rainstorm and oh shit. This won't end well.
Okay (deep breath). Abel is swept away into a river because he was chivalrous enough to attempt to fetch his wife's scarf. Idiot.
When Abel comes to rest on a lonely, desolate island, he must make his home in a log and creates a fake "family" from clay so loneliness doesn't drive him insane in the mouse brain. I won't tell you how it ends, but it gets better before it gets worse so go in prepared.
Tissue Factor: Prepare to feel hollow inside for a few days.
The Trumpet of the Swan [15]
E. B. White, 1970
This is the second book on the list by E. B. White. What's this dude's problem? I don't wanna start rumours, but it seems like he hates happiness.
Louis is a beautiful and strong Trumpeter Goose. Except, to his parents chagrin, Louis is born mute and as such will never find a mate and leave his parents without grandchildren. Way to make it all about YOU, Louis' parents.
His dad then commits four or five human crimes (I swear) and effectively gets Louis his voice. (Spoiler: It's a trumpet. Like, an actual fucking trumpet like the nerds in high school band play.)
I received this book for Christmas when I was nine years-old. It came in a set with Charlotte's Web and Stuart Little. I think it was called "The Little Set of Misery for Children Who Never Want to Smile Again." MISSION ACCOMPLISHED, GRANDMA.
Tissue Factor: Several large gin and tonics.
Jeni Marinucci is YMC's Creative Director. She has a guilty conscience, a love for humour, and a questionable home-haircut. After her children were old enough to make their own sandwiches, she returned to University to complete her B.A. in English Literature—a designation which has provided her with an extensive library and crushing student loans. When no teaching college wanted her, she had to choose between taking orders through a drive-thru window or from an editor. She chose the latter.