72 books like Honeydew

Each one of these stories is a mini-novel, which are the sort of stories I love. Black never leaves you hanging, like some writers do, and you will feel like you’re right in there watching the story unfold. The writing has been called pitch-perfect and I agree. Every word is right, every moment fits and every character is trying to make sense of the world as we all do, every day. She deftly explores the emotional DNA passed from generations before and what that means for each of our lives going forward. So you get a great tale well told. and a lot to think about at the same time. Exactly what I love to read and what smart modern women are drawn to. 

This is a truly beautiful collection, and I love the way many of the stories place the protagonists in fraught situations that reveal what they will do to survive.

Some of my favorites are “The Worst You Ever Feel” and “The Briefcase” for how they show war’s impact on survivors, and “Painted Ocean, Painted Ship” and “The Miracle Years of Little Fork” for combining the tragic and the absurd in creative ways.

Everyone recognizes ZNH’s iconic novel, Their Eyes Were Watching God, but Hurston is a master short story writer. She reminds me of the artist Van Gogh, who devoted his work to the common man as Hurston centers her stories on simple folk whose experiences exemplify the human struggle. Profound and pleasing to read, you will smell the flowers, hear the bees buzzing, and occasionally laugh out loud at these beautifully told stories of real life. Although your life may be different from these, you will be reminded of what bonds us more than what divides us. No better time to think about that. 

The one and only collection by this great novelist [and the sister of A.S. Byatt] is one of my most favorite. These short tales explore all sorts of relationships, not only marriage and friendship, but our relationships with personal identity, politics, and the culture which defines us. The writing is absolutely divine – images pop from the page and characters stay with us as if we’ve actually known them. And between the lines there is a lot of philosophical musing, which I love – just enough to make us think but never wear us down. These stories are for women who like to explore the existential. Think of them as a workout for the brain. 

I have never been able to look at Renaissance paintings of the Madonna and child the same after reading this brilliant and controversial book. I promise your eyes will be opened as well. These paintings were not simple religious decoration. Christ’s genitalia, exposed or covered, was a visible element in theological arguments in the Renaissance about the humanity of Christ. In our secular world, Steinberg argues, we have lost sight of the sexual component of these images. Steinberg’s breadth of learning is astounding, and the extensive footnotes are as stimulating as the text.  

This is the Mother of all boy mom books. It’s required reading for anyone learning to speak boy. Equal parts despair—Lamott is a single mom who sometimes wants to leave her crying boy outside on the stoop—and equal parts gut punches of hilarious wisdom and ardor about boy life and mom devotion.

This book is like a mini-encyclopedia of 67 common, everyday parenting questions: Are cloth diapers better than disposables? Is BPA in baby bottles a concern? Should we choose daycare or a nanny? The questions are arranged alphabetically; each begins with a statement of two competing positions, a concise “What the science says” section, a bottom-line conclusion, and sometimes a personal story. What I liked most is how Dr. Bryson infused her writing with the true bottom line: it all comes back to your relationship with your baby. Because of this book’s unique format, I found it was best read as a reference, or in bite sizes, rather than cover-to-cover.

A classic of ethnographic description and symbolic analysis based upon fieldwork among the Ndembu of Zambia—a must read for anyone interested in sociological and psychological implications of ritual belief and practice in a small-scale, non-literate, kinship-based society. 

A stellar example of what is lost by cancelling "colonialist" literature and discarding the very concepts of "culture" and "religion" as relics of Western intellectual imperialism. 

In 10 essays on color symbolism, circumcision rites, rites of passage, social dynamics, and more, Turner lays the groundwork for his proposition that ritual is the key to religion and religion is the key to culture. 

I have a soft (tender, bruised) spot for stories exploring childhood bullying, and Susan Hill’s I’m the King of the Castle is one of the best. I also love big creaky old houses, and here we have Warings, a big creaky Victorian house inherited by Joseph Hooper, who moves in with his son, Edmund. Joseph, a widower, brings into the household a housekeeper-cum-companion and her son, Charles Kingshaw. Edmund does not want to share ‘his’ house and lets Charles know he’s unwelcome, but the grown-ups insist that the boys, both ten years old, will be friends, and go on insisting that they are friends even as Edmund is persecuting Charles, making his life a misery. It’s a claustrophobic and compelling novel and the final lines are brilliant and memorably harrowing.

Hill’s minimalist style, ability to evoke despair, and superb descriptions, combined with the most vivid of imaginations, make her a compelling writer of ghost stories. Hill generally includes all my favourite elements in her ghost stories, starting in familiar surroundings, then moving to more exotic locations, often delivering a shocking twist at the end. In The Man in the Picture, a story set in Venice during Carnival is told to the narrator by an aging professor in his Cambridge rooms on a winter’s night. You don’t read a Susan Hill book to come out feeling better afterwards, but… if you like to be left with a feeling of disquiet, even though you know it’s only a story you just read, The Man in the Picture’s definitely for you.