46 books like Northern Lights

I realize this book isn’t one of King’s supernatural thrillers like Kujo or The Shining, both of which petrified my middle-school self into turning the pages late, late into the night. But Misery is the best of King’s work because this “super-psychological” thriller pits two antithetical forces against one another.

The police interview setup seems a straightforward approach to story-telling, but it turns into a deeply emotion, personal journey for Paul, the book’s hero. We learn in subsequent pages that Paul’s “number one fan,” Annie Wilkes, refuses to allow Paul to continue on a journey of self-aggrandizement...to the point she’s willing to brutalize and imprison him…all while claiming to love his mind. Paul’s imagination becomes his only viable tool to escape Annie’s machinations.

Misery is powerful, brilliant work and the reason I now write mysteries and thrillers.

In my head, there’s a high I’m chasing, and it’s the high I got when I finally finished David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas, the high of one synapse in my head connecting with one another in a bright feverish spark as I volley from one page to the next, one character to the next, one era to the next.

If I had to summarise what the book even is, I’d say it’s reincarnation and samsara in the hands of Mitchell’s trademark ventriloquism, arranged into this wonderfully nested set of Russian doll narratives. It sounds very smart and full of grand ideas about the nature of human suffering, and it is! But it is also deeply romantic and about the peculiar destiny that can tie one human soul to another all throughout eternity.

I adore this book for its incisive portrayal of familial expectations clashing with personal desires. The way Austen unfolds the Bennet sisters' stories against societal norms speaks to me about the courage it takes to pursue true happiness, regardless of the pressures that surround us.

What really resonated with me was Elizabeth Bennet’s necessity to maintain a facade while internally struggling with her true wants and needs within the constraints of her family.

I’ll always read Gillian Flynn, for the simple reason that her writing style is the closest thing to Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood written by a modern writer. She’s just that good.

This book is my favorite because of how it explores taboo topics (see the theme here?) and because she creates richly complex characters that showcase the range of what people are capable of—the greatest kindness and the darkest cruelty.

Here’s another book with two lovers occupying two parallel realities, though I would say that the romance is almost beside the point in this book, where a multitude of stranger, more engrossing things are always threatening to steal the spotlight: Cults! A town of cats! The return of Ushikawa! Two moons! A novel named Air Chrysalis! You couldn’t ask for more, really.

I read this book in high school and it messed. Me. Up. So much so that I remember it in vivid detail to this day and credit it with my desire to write dysfunctional family fiction.

I’d be hard-pressed in real life (thank God) to find a family suffering from issues ranging from incestuous relationships through moral superiority and unforgiving rigidity up to greed and murder… all of which feels like the tip of the iceberg.

Reading the tale of a family who has gone so far off the rails will, if nothing else, make you appreciate the mundane problems your own family has. And isn’t that why we read this genre?

I learnt from this book how to create bizarre characters. It’s full of odd personalities, not all of them are weird but they’re definitely strange. But then it’s a strange story so...

I loved seeing Backman’s skill of characterisation at work. He creates a seven-year-old girl who wants to live in her Granny’s make-believe world populated by peculiar people. Unfortunately she finds she has to exist in the real world – with all its equally peculiar people.

I enjoyed his creation of a cast where everyone is not as they first seem. In fact, trying not to put in a spoiler, there are twice as many characters as people. Elsa, the young heroine, has to find these complex characters and discover who they really are. But this isn’t a children’s story and the child star is no ordinary seven-year-old; yet another excellent piece of characterisation.

I learnt from Fredrik Backman… show more.

By the time I learnt to read, Enid Blyton had already written six or seven children’s books. One of my early reads was likely to have been this one, the original adventure. Eventually, I read them all.

I learnt the characters so well; their looks and personalities, they were embedded in my mind until the next book – and the remaining nineteen! So clear were their identities, my friends and I were able to re-enact the Five’s escapades taking the roles of the siblings and cousin. 

Although some of her writing comes in for criticism these days (from adults), it’s for things that went unnoticed by the average child swept along by the book’s adventures.

In my writing I work hard to create memorable characters and I’m always delighted when they are mentioned by readers.

I’ve selected this title as it’s one of the first Jeeves and Wooster books but, to be honest, you could choose any one; they’re all brilliant.

That goes for pretty much all of Wodehouse’s stories. I realise everyone knows these two characters from the various TV series produced over the years. But they may not have read the books. They should. It’s a great credit to the author that whichever actors portray this pair, and others such as Lord Emsworth of Blandings, the characters are instantly recognisable.

I think PG Wodehouse’s characterisation is superb. I admire his eye for details, not only in appearance but in mannerisms and speech. Wooster – the young gentleman – is wealthy, foppish, dapper, scatterbrained and idle. Jeeves – the gentleman’s gentleman – is someone who “from the collar upwards, stands alone.” That phrase alone tells the reader everything they need to know about the… show more.

This book is peak Atwood for me, a meeting place of so many things that made me fall in love with her as a reader: her dry humour; her playful approach to language; the wonderful ping-pong between the past and the present, the burning, smouldering heart that lay at the core of all her protagonists.

But the novel is also deeply in love with (and critical of!) the increasingly proliferate ways our hypermedia culture is able to tell a story, and this book's opening pages are a perfect primer for Atwood’s multi-thread account of her protagonist’s sister’s suicide and their relationship with a politically radical author of pulp science fiction.

The effect is dizzying, and its impact is tremendous; I distinctly remember reading this novel as a teenager, entering it unaware of what I would be getting into, and leaving its world completely blown away by what fiction could just… show more.