Books Like Great Gatsby Novels & Stories

The class groaned loudly. “Mr. Matthew,” the girl with the bee stung-like lip whined, “you just asked us to read The Great Gatsby just last month.” “I know, Sarah,” he said, clearly unbothered. So her name was Sarah. Interesting. “And I believe everyone in this room is capable of reading three books a month. That’s barely one per week.” Emma had read One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest five times. She practically had it memorized. Her Aunt Mary had given her the book with a sticky note that read: “Read this and never settle for being ordinary.”

"I'm glad you're enjoying it. We don't usually get to spend this much time together, just the two of us.” Justin came to Alexa and both had such an awesome converse as they shopped on "Justin, have you read 'The Great Gatsby'?" Alexa asked, holding up a copy of the book. Justin lifted eyes lit up. "Yeah, I love F. Scott Fitzgerald! What about you?" Alexa nodded enthusiastically. "Me too! I've read it like five times already." Justin chuckled to himself. As they walked through the mall, they stumbled upon a small music store. Louise's eyes widened as he gazed at the instruments on display.

His eyes never left my face, and I just couldn't bring myself to stare back at him. I was about to leave when I spotted the book he was reading from the corner of my eyes. He had closed the book when I walked in, so I saw the cover and title, "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee. I looked up at him in astonishment, "I didn't think you would be interested in classic literature."

Ads by Pubfuture I brought him to the balcony, and I smiled when I felt the night breeze tickled on my skin. I wanted to change my clothes, but I knew I needed to talk with Ashton about our project, and I felt so glad he prepared his notes. And I am amazed by how well he has written his notes, and he highlighted all the key points, and it was very shocking to learn that we chose the same book, one from Shakespeare, from Jane Austin, and the classic historical book by Margaret Mitchell entitled Gone With The Wind. "You chose, Megan." He said when he realized I was still looking in his notes, and when I handed him my notes, I saw him shaking his head out of the corner of my eye.

It was here, amidst the hushed whispers of knowledge, that Jasmine’s life took an unexpected turn. She had come to return a book, a first edition of Pride and Prejudice that her grandmother had gifted her. It was irreplaceable, a piece of her family’s history, and she’d been meticulous about keeping it safe. But in her haste to grab a book on the top shelf, she’d accidentally swapped it with someone else’s. When she realized her mistake, she’d already left the library, and the book she’d taken home was not hers. The book she’d ended up with was a first edition of The Great Gatsby, its cover embossed with gold lettering.

His voice was low and husky, sending shivers down Vivian's spine as he spoke to her. “Pardon,” Vivian was totally confused by what he just said. “Tales of the Great Gatsby, it's a quote from the novel. You have read the book, right?” Eric Damian said, waving the book he had in his hand in the air. The book had the title “Tales of the Great Gatsby." “Oh...I haven't really read it to the end. I just got the book today. It's quite interesting,” Vivian said, somehow forgetting she had no idea how he got into her room despite the doors and windows being locked shut.

“But both are Nintendo, so the vibe here is still good” “How about books? Do you have a favorite?”, she asks. “Grapes of Wrath”, I answer and her shock over my answer doesn’t go unnoticed. “You”? “The Great Gatsby”, she says. Wow, that’s depressing! “So tragic”, I told her. “Speak for yourself”, she says, and we both laugh again because both books are probably equally depressing! “Favorite movie?” I asked her. “Love, Actually”, she says sadly. “Serious? Isn’t that a little before your time?” I said.

Far enough to give her the space her body was still asking for. Should say something. Something helpful. Something that proved I wasn't just muscle and anger and a stick on ice. Something wise. Had nothing wise. The book was on the counter. Gatsby. The only book I owned – the one she'd made me read, the one I'd gotten a B+ on, the one that had rearranged something in my head I didn't know could move. Dog-eared. Coffee-stained. Spine cracked at the part we'd argued about during our first tutoring session.

I mean with Ancient English and all, it all just seems boring. But reading “the great gatsby” is more interesting than I thought. I was deeply engrossed in the book when I felt a tap on my shoulder, I flinched and sprang my head up to meet the angry gaze of Na..Nathan? “Nathan? What are you doing here?” I was quite bewildered because Nathan is the last person to be seen in a library. Like most typical boys, He hates novels. “I knew I would find you here.” That makes more sense, he came for me.

I need to take time. I remember the small room I entered last time. I slowly opened the door and turned on the lampshade. The books on the table were still scattered. I tried to look and read each one of them. These are all interesting books. Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer, The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and a lot more. I tried to find something that might help me, but I found nothing.