I love children's/young-adult literature, and lately my faves have been Daniel Pinkwater, Tamora Pierce, and William Sleator. I even co-wrote a children's book (which contains a short proof!) with my friend and colleague Tamara Veenstra, and we're currently attempting to get it published. None of that is really the point of this page, though.
These are books I've (read recently and) thought enough of to insist that more than one other person read them.
I don't really think that every person in the world should read each of these books. Nor is this a comprehensive list; there are books I grew up with and books that I've read as an adult that seem so obviously must-reads that they're not included here. I'm sure there are books I've forgotten to list, as well.
The Adventures of Blue Avenger, by Norma
Howe (also Blue Avenger Cracks the Code and Blue Avenger and
the Theory of Everything)
Imagine a really nice teenager, who happens to be smart and curious and uninhibited
by the usual teenage social strictures. Then add unbelievably and self-admittedly
contrived plots. My dad recommended this to me and got my whole household hooked.
I was in a bad mood after finishing the third book, because it was all over.
Gregor the Overlander, by Suzanne
Collins. (also Gregor and the Prophecy of Bane, Gregor and
the Curse of the Warmbloods, Gregor and the Marks of Secret.)
I heard about this book on NPR, described as Alice in Wonderland for kids who'd
grown up in New York City, so that the rabbit hole is replaced by an air duct
in a high-rise. That's pretty accurate. The series is unbelievable in quality;
it's better than the Harry Potter series, and I think I haven't read such a
compelling young-adult fantasy novel since The Chronicles of Prydain
(or equivalent). In fact, I started crying as I read the end the first book,
because I was afraid it was about to be over. (Then I realized there were more
books in the series and recovered.) In 2005, I read Gregor in nightly
installments to a captivated audience of high-school students, and they always
clamored for more.
The Librarian of Basra, by Jeanette Winter. This is a picture book. The colors are intense and magnificent; the true story is compelling. I ordered it through interlibrary loan, and when it arrived the librarians had to read it before giving it to me. A month later, I noticed a brand-new copy displayed at my local library branch...
The new Nancy Drew, Girl Detective series. This is not for everyone. In fact, it's not for anyone except fans of the 1930's-era Nancy Drew mystery stories. Yes, these are still authored by Carolyn Keene. No, they're not awful like the late 1980's Nancy Drew books. They're pulpy and fun and written in first person. My favorites so far are numbers 13 and 14, because they involve heavy tributes to the original series.
The Time Warp Trio series by Jon Scieszka (rhymes with "Fresca") and Lane Smith. Sadly, there does not seem to be an official home page for the books (though while looking for one I discovered there's now a Saturday morning cartoon based on the series). I got hooked on Jon Scieszka and Lane Smith's work via Math Curse, and can't seem to stop. Luckily they keep co-creating books... Anyway, the Time Warp Trio series is about three wacky male kids who semi-accidentally and wholly-uncontrollably travel through time, thereby experiencing various temporally-bound cultures and only barely making it back home. Yeah. And go read Math Curse. Really. I mean it.
The Schwa Was Here by Neal Shusterman. I don't like either the author's home page or the book's website, so will link to neither here. How would you feel if you were so plain that you were socially invisible...to the extent that often people didn't know you were present? How would you deal with it? Might you do anything about it? Just go read the book.
The All-of-A-Kind Family series by Sydney Taylor.
This is really a re-discovery, as I read these books as a teen. For some reason
they'd been appearing in my mind again lately, so I happily grabbed one at a
local library book sale. Don't read them for plot, but for texture: they're
about Jewish life in New York in the early 1900's. One person I foisted the
first book on found it too simplistic, but that's too bad. I think the books
are great despite their simplicity.
Half Magic, by Edward Eager.
Imagine that you have a way of making wishes come true, but that they only become
half true... I also heard about this book on NPR, and promptly checked
it out of the library just before going to a conference. I hate flying, but
had a lovely flight because I started reading Half Magic just prior
to takeoff, laughed aloud (yes, on a crowded plane) while in flight, and finished
the book just as the plane touched down. (On the same NPR show, I first heard
about The Ear, the Eye and the Arm, by Nancy Farmer, which I really
liked but I don't think I tried to make anyone else read it.)
His Dark Materials, a trilogy by Philip Pullman. Nearly a decade ago, I somehow acquired (via a book club?) the first volume, The Golden Compass. I started reading it a half-decade ago, while teaching at Bowdoin, and was immediately entranced by the language used in the book. That is, there were tons of words used whose meanings I did not know, some of which I was able to understand from context and the greek roots and others where I was clueless. I mentioned one of these words to a class, and a student immediately piped up that it was from His Dark Materials and that I would love the rest of the book(s). It's all true. These books inspire devotion. There are some interesting similarities (and contrasts) with one of the plot threads in The Chronicles of Prydain, in such a way that I think it important for folks interested in women's place in society to read both series.
The Young Man Who Wouldn't Hoe Corn, by Eric Von Schmidt. Okay, I admit it. This doesn't even count as a re-discovery. But I love this book and think everyone should read it. I love it so much that I have trouble reading it aloud in a steady voice. Still, it's a read-aloud book if only because of the wonderful meter of the text. The pictures use ink, crayon, and watercolor in combination. Now, the book has substance as well as beauty: The setting is colonial New England, a time and place when survival skills were needed. How does a society deal with people whose skills don't match those which appear to be needed? Check this book out of your library (or get it from a used/rare bookseller---it's hard to find), and know why my father calls any imperious black cat by the name 'Deodat.'