57 books like Blaze

Graham Greene’s writing has a profound moral gravity, and I found this story–of a petty criminal leading a desperate life on the rim of poverty while manipulating the woman in his life–to be a spectacle of human cruelty I couldn’t look away from.

Rose knows her man is no good but loves him anyway, unaware that he’s courted her solely to avoid prosecution for his crimes. After his death, she goes to Confession and takes solace from the slender thread of good in him–unaware that he has left a recording behind that will reveal the truth and shatter the only happiness she has left.

As a technical matter, the novel is a master class in holding back a final twist of the knife for a book’s very last lines to leave the reader reeling.

The first novel about legendary private eye Phillip Marlowe is also the first mystery novel that ever made me cry when I turned the last page.

Marlowe’s poetic narration and bruised outsider’s voice offer a cynical but also strangely hopeful perspective on both the shady underworld types and the corrupt high-society folk who fill the “mean streets” down which Marlowe must walk (in Chandler’s much-quoted phrase).

Why hopeful when death–the big sleep–awaits us all? Because a man of principles like Marlowe can still bring a measure of justice in this unjust world, sometimes just by bearing witness.

I discovered Lawrence Block at my local library when I was probably still too young to read his searing, heartbreaking stories about damaged men and women navigating lives rocked by trauma and tragedy.

But his books drew me in, especially this landmark story about an alcoholic ex-cop forced to come to terms with his addiction while working to solve a brutal crime.

The character has been played in movies by Liam Neeson and Jeff Bridges, but it’s on the page and in Block’s beautiful sentences that Matthew Scudder truly comes to life.

Malamud isn’t thought of as a crime writer, but this story of a robber who goes to work for the man he robbed as a kind of silent penance is very much a story of crime and punishment, of sin and redemption, and it directly inspired one of my own stories about a killer who winds up working for the mother of the man he killed.

A sad and troubling book, this book is about how even good intentions can lead to bad outcomes and how atonement might never be enough but is still necessary.

Laura McHugh writes about parts of the U.S. that are often either villainized or over-simplified. Instead of leaning into the cliches, she brings these landscapes and their people alive with compassion but without pity. From the first paragraph, I could feel the oppressiveness of the protagonist’s world but I could also see its wild beauty. This is a place where the air is “heavy as a sodden sponge” and insects buzz like an “unholy plague.” The darkness implied in the title has a layered meaning here: there’s the darkness of ignorance, the darkness of the human mind that is capable of justifying cruelty as salvation, and the darkness of hidden and ignored places. 

Do children always tell the truth?

With so many perspectives and so many puzzles, this thriller had me excited. The chapters from the child's perspective, in particular, stuck with me. I loved how you understood the story through a child's eyes. The naïve narrative makes the worst things particularly horrific. And all without bloodshed!

I can only heartily recommend this page-turner of my German author colleague, which was even made into a series by Netflix.

This was a fun and thrilling read about an intricate kidnapping plot. A seemingly perfect crime with the picture-perfect family; ‘Picture Perfect’, is only ever for the picture.

It taught me that even if the odds are stacked against you, you are not captive to your circumstance. This was a psychological and active fight for survival, not only for one’s own survival but for those whom you love.

Courage is contagious.

The Cellar will have you holding your breath at each turn! I felt like my skin was crawling while I was reading this book and I was thinking of ways to escape the nightmare. Natasha Preston did a fantastic job of making you feel like you’re living in Summer’s shoes. It’s a gripping story of a horrific kidnapping and the new life Summer finds herself living in. This book makes you glance twice over your shoulder when you’re walking alone at night and it is a reminder of how quickly something like this can happen. The Cellar opens your mind to both the kidnapper and the captives. Highly recommend this book!   

This memoir is both haunting and oddly inspirational.

On 10 June 1991, eleven-year-old Jaycee Dugard was abducted from a school bus stop within sight of her home in Tahoe, California. It was the last her family saw of her for over eighteen years. In 2009 an investigation discovered her living in a tent behind her kidnapper’s house.

I love this memoir for a whole lot of reasons, but in large part because there’s not a trace of self-pity in her account—despite her having had so much of her life “stolen” from her—and because of her determination to find faith in humanity again.

After much soul-searching, Charlotte Emory resolves to leave the motley cast of characters that make up her family in Clarion, Maryland. Her plans are foiled, however, by happenstance. When she goes to cash her getaway cheque, she becomes entangled with robber Jake Simms, who takes her hostage and spirits her south to Florida. Forks in the road abound in this novel, figurative and literal. In the end, however, and through sheer force of character, Charlotte bids farewell to Jake in particular and happenstance in general. She returns to her family, having made up her mind to take only those paths in life which reflect her true character and ensure that she is the wife and mother she should really be.