Reading Log: Childhood Nostalgia

two books I have read cover to cover at least four times growing up

We all have favourite books from childhood that manage to follow us into adulthood. I definitely have more than two—from big-name series like the Rainbow Magic Fairies to Twilight, depending on the age group—but I wanted to highlight a pair that feel a bit more timeless and irrevocably represent who I was as a young reader. I was the kind of kid who would stay up way past bedtime with the massive flashlight my parents kept in the drawer, reading under the covers (usually getting caught, since I was never as sneaky as I thought and always had to sleep with my bedroom door open).

The two books I’m revisiting today have seared themselves into my memory. The specific covers you see above are the exact editions I still own. I recently re-read The Two Princesses of Bamarre as an audiobook, and while I have yet to watch the Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret adaptation starring Rachel McAdams, it’s definitely on my list. These two books feel deeply connected to my soul; they are the ultimate comfort reads, which is exactly why I chose them. They shaped me as a child and helped spark my love for fiction, self-exploration, fantasy, and stories about friendship. Both books handle themes like conflict, fear, curiosity, relationships, growth, and gendered expectations with care and nuance. They spoke to the questions I was constantly turning over in my mind at the time I read them. I would recommend these books to anyone: kids, teens, adults, doesn’t matter the age range. And as a bonus, they’re genuinely well-written, which makes returning to them all the more rewarding.

The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine

You might be thinking, Gail Carson Levine…why does that name sound familiar? She’s a well-known figure in young adult fantasy: the author of well known and loved Ella Enchanted. If you didn’t read the book as a kid, chances are you saw the Anne Hathaway movie adaptation. Now, take the fun and excitement of that film and imagine it with two sisters, a mysterious plague, sword fighting, and plenty of magic.

summary: The Two Princesses of Bamarre follows Addie, the younger and more timid of two sisters, who lives in the shadow of her brave, sword-wielding sister, Meryl. Meryl dreams of saving their kingdom from monsters—gryphons, specters, ogres—the stuff of legend. Addie, meanwhile, is afraid of almost everything and would much rather stay safely tucked inside with a good book. But when Meryl falls sick to the kingdom’s most feared illness, the Gray Death, it is Addie who must set out on an impossible quest to save her. Armed with magical gifts, scraps of courage, and the tangled weight of love and fear, Addie’s journey is one of danger, loss, and resilience. There’s romance, yes, but it’s her bond with Meryl and her growing belief in herself that makes this story unforgettable. It’s a beautiful fantasy about grief, bravery, and the ache of growing up.

My favourite thing about Addie is that she is riddled with anxiety. I was a very timid child, and in many ways, I still am. It was incredibly comforting to read a story growing up where the protagonist is a young, fearful girl who does not magically overcome her fear, but instead learns to move through it to do what needs to be done. Like me, she is afraid of being alone, of spiders, of illness, and of the great unknown. And yet, she faces them all, and does so with cleverness and quiet strength.

Like all good fantasy heroines, Addie of course has a soft spot for a sweet, well-meaning sorcerer named Rhys. There’s a quiet romance threaded through the story (and very lightly because I believe she is meant to be twelve), but what I really love is that the heart of Addie’s journey is hers alone. She isn’t rescued, and she doesn’t need to be. Even though she spends most of the book convinced she cannot possibly do what is asked of her, she does—again and again—and slowly begins to realize that maybe she can. Maybe she always could.

What makes this feel so special is how it subtly challenges the gendered expectations placed on both sisters. Meryl is the brave one, the bold one: learning swordplay, dreaming of quests, doing all the things a “proper” princess is not supposed to do. But it is Addie, the quiet one, the one who plays by the rules and loves reading, who must act. And in doing so, she turns those expectations on their head. She does not become fearless, she becomes brave because she is afraid. And that is what makes her a hero. A beautiful story about the power of confidence, the strength of friendship, and the courage it takes to break free from the moulds placed on you, whether by your kingdom or by yourself.

Now, do not let the fact that Addie is supposed to be twelve put you off. It’s barely mentioned, and honestly, the story still manages to be full of drama, grief, and depth. I probably wouldn’t suggest it for a book club since it’s aimed at a younger audience, but if you’re looking for something sweet, magical, and quietly profound, I cannot recommend it enough. I will be taking this book to the grave, that is how much I love it. And I have to say, while it follows the familiar arc of a classic fantasy quest, the ending is far from predictable. Gail Carson Levine throws in a few curveballs that keep you on your toes the whole way through.

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume

Judy Blume was a huge name when I was growing up — everyone knew her, read her books, and was a little obsessed, to say the least. She’s a phenomenal writer of children’s lit, YA, and even adult fiction. With over 26 books to her name and a legacy that shaped generations, it’s surprising (even to me) that this is the only Judy Blume book I ever read. But it left such an impact, it feels like it counts for many.

summary: Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret follows eleven-year-old Margaret Simon, a curious, anxious, and big-hearted girl who has just moved from New York City to the suburbs of New Jersey. She’s trying to figure out how to fit in — with her new neighbourhood, her new friends, and the strange, unspoken rules of growing up. She joins a secret club where the girls talk about all the things they’re too shy to say out loud: bras, periods, crushes, and body image. But beneath all of that is Margaret’s deeper, quieter question: who is she supposed to be, and what does she believe? With divorced parents and no formal religion, Margaret starts having her own private conversations with God, asking questions no one else seems to have the answers to.

If you are at all familiar with this title, then I am sure you remember some of the smart, memorable lines scattered throughout—like the iconic chant Margaret and her friends come up with: “We must, we must, we must increase our bust!” This book is funny, honest, and deeply relatable, especially if you’ve ever felt awkward in your own skin or unsure of your place in the world. Margaret’s voice is incredibly sincere and it felt like talking to a friend when I first read it. Even though the coming of age story is set in the 1970s, I believe it is another timeless book whose lessons speak for themselves throughout the ages.

Besides navigating training bras, periods, and the awkwardness of moving to a new town, Margaret is also wrestling with something much bigger: the thought of religion. Her mother was raised Christian, her father is Jewish, and neither of them practices or wants her to have to choose. But when Margaret's maternal grandparents re-enter her life—bringing their strong Christian beliefs with them—she starts to explore religion on her own. Her private conversations with God become a space of solace, confusion, and searching as she tries to figure out what she believes in, and where she belongs.

My own father was raised Catholic, and like Margaret, I grew up in a home where no religion was practiced. I often wondered what it might be like to believe in something bigger, to have answers to the world’s questions through a higher power. Or even just the comfort of having someone or something to pray to, especially when navigating new friendships, periods, and how to ask your mom for a bra. Margaret ultimately finds her own way forward, but it was both shocking and deeply comforting to read a book at a young age where the protagonist was asking the very same questions I was, at the very same time.

Conclusions

Both The Two Princesses of Bamarre and Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret hold a deeply special place in my heart, but they speak to different aspects of growing up. On one hand, Addie’s quest in The Two Princesses of Bamarre is a literal journey of bravery and self-discovery, set in a fantastical world where the stakes are life or death. Addie, with her anxious heart and slow-burn courage, is a reluctant hero who learns to face her fears, challenge the expectations placed upon her, and find strength within herself. Her story is about discovering that even the most timid, unsure parts of ourselves can be sources of great resilience.

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret tackles the more personal, internal struggles of adolescence: questions of faith, identity, and belonging. Margaret’s journey is quieter, marked by her introspective conversations with God and her exploration of what it means to grow up in a world where religion, peer pressure, and body image are constantly at the forefront. It’s a story rooted in the universal experiences of growing pains, self-doubt, and the longing to find a place in the world.

What ties these two stories together is their shared focus on growing into oneself. Both Addie and Margaret are on a path of self-discovery, but while Addie’s journey is one of epic external challenges, Margaret’s is about navigating the much quieter but no less significant internal battles of childhood and early adolescence. In both books, we see young girls learning to push past their fears and uncertainties, even when they don’t fully believe in their ability to do so. The beauty of these stories is that they show us that there’s no one “right” way to grow up. Whether you’re facing dragons and curses or grappling with your own faith and body, the act of finding yourself is a personal and messy journey.

Ultimately, both books remind us that, even when we feel small or unsure, we have the capacity for greatness in whatever form that might take, whether it’s through acts of heroism or finding our own voice in a complex world.

Thanks for reading!

xx,

Ciara