89 books like 10

Virginia Woolf knew – she insisted – that a life spent maintaining a house, throwing dinner parties, and taking children on sailing expeditions was not necessarily, not categorically, a trivial life.

Even a modest, domestic life is still, for the person living it, an epic journey, however ordinary it might appear to the outside observer. Woolf refused to dismiss lives that most male writers ignore or even denigrate.

And you can get lost in her magnificent sentences; no one puts words together as beautifully as Virginia Woolf.

I was blown away by this book, which beautifully captures the fragmented, jarring experience of being “Extremely Online.” The reader sees the world through the protagonist’s eyes as she scrolls, argues with strangers, and experiences the constant pressure to generate hot takes—especially once an absurd tweet propels her to celebrity.

The book conveys the tension between online interactions (ephemeral, yes, but not necessarily lacking in genuine human emotion) and serious offline issues, like the family tragedy that finally pulls the main character away from the digital fray. I laughed out loud at the over-sharing and performative virtue signaling in the Reddit-like Portal. Haven’t we all encountered “that guy” online?

In contrast to John Berger’s Marxist aesthetic, Barthes’s approach to visual experience and photographic images draws upon the tradition of semiotics and, to a degree, postmodern theories of text and intertextuality. Barthes leads his reader into the codes and conventions of the image. How images signify is thus made a central topic that provokes self-reflection and reflexive challenges to conventional image analysis. Where Berger’s work is expository and analytic, Barthes's book is exploratory and novelistic (Barthes would have his reader approach the work as a kind of intertextual fiction). As the title of the work suggests, this is Barthes at his most personal and reflective. His fascination remains with the photographic image which is presented as one of the defining aesthetic objects of modernity. But the act of photography is now itself complex, mediated, and open to a range of concrete experiential impulses.

Here the viewer of the photograph is… show more.

Andrew O’Hagan is a contemporary master of the literary essay, and in this book we have three long non-fiction pieces linked by his investigations into the online world. O’Hagan was the ghostwriter for Julian Assange’s doomed autobiography, and here he tells the story of this adventure – it’s a publisher’s nightmare but a dream for the psychoanalyst, as the line between Assange’s invented self and the reality of his life begins to collapse. The other two essays also explore mercurial identities online, with a portrait of the rumored, shadowy inventor of Bitcoin, and the brief life of a Frankensteinian amalgam of O’Hagan’s own making – a cyber-persona who has an address, a credit card, and who can buy drugs on the Dark Web. O’Hagan even manages to meet his creation’s mother.  

While this is not a Regency romance, it is the best contemporary romance I have ever read and is another one I come back to time and again because it is so well written. The characters are well drawn, there is snappy dialogue, several twists, high sexual tension, and who could resist a heroine who blinks with one eye? 

Jen Turano is the queen of quirky characters. This book had me giggling and guffawing with all its crazy shenanigans. Who knew an oversized bustle could double as a floatation device? Daphne Beekman is a successful author who pens thrilling mysteries yet swoons at the first sign of danger in real life. As a consultant for an all-female inquiry agency, she puts her intelligence and creative mind to work solving crimes. But when the reclusive author, and incredibly handsome, Herman Henderson hires the agency, Daphne determines to take a more active role. Outlandish disguises, daring adventure, and bookish banter ensue as Daphne and Herman solve the greatest mystery of all—love.

I’m recommending this novel because it’s about the way you can sometimes find very special treasures in old bookshops.

I love the idea of writing a story about this because it’s happened to me. A few times during my life I’ve been in a second-hand bookshop and stumbled on a book that I didn’t even know existed – one that was just what I needed for that season of my life or that phase of my pursuit of truth.

I love The Echo of Old Books because it celebrates such book-related serendipities. And obviously I love it because it's my genre too – magical realism.

I am a sucker for characters who find themselves through books.

In this novel, a girl enters a contest to meet her favorite author and win the only copy of his latest book. But first, she has to go to a mysterious island and compete with a band of ruthless opponents. I was never quite sure of anyone in this book, but that is a good thing when you are going after your greatest wish. It keeps you on your toes.

This is not a story of “be careful what you wish for”; it is a “keep wishing” story. 

Swear on This Life is not your typical romance—and I absolutely love it. It’s a soul journey to heal childhood wounds. It’s a “the one who got away” love story. It’s heart-wrenching and elating. 

It feels like real life. 

(But you do get the HEA!)

Renee Carlino doesn’t stick to the formula for romance novels in the traditional sense, but her writing is still safely classed in the genre. That’s why I love it. It’s not fluff (don’t get me wrong, I love fluffy romcoms as well!) and it’s not a guy with 8-pack abs (also love those heroes!). Carlino writes about vulnerable humans daring to feel even though they know that love, like life, comes with hurt. 

Don’t grab Swear on This Life when you need a lighthearted read. Grab it when you want to sit in your feels. I think you’ll love it!

McGahern is famous for writing slow-burning accounts of life in mid-century rural Ireland.

The Pornographer, however, is about a lonely bachelor who writes porn in his suburban bedsit then gets the bus into town to seduce women in gloomy dancehalls. He makes one of them pregnant and a battle of wills begins: he thinks she should obtain an abortion, she thinks they marry. This is remarkable because it is set in 1960s Dublin, a time and place in which the Catholic Church reigned supreme.

The book’s depiction of a night-time city composed of grimy pubs and starchy hospital wards is unforgettable, but its fascination for me lies in the protagonist’s casual cruelty towards his lover: this was what I had in mind when developing Cormac, the protagonist of my book – a passive, affable, but ultimately detached man who wreaks emotional havoc by accident and reflects a very Irish, still… show more.