100 books like A Nice Derangement of Epitaphs

Daphne Du Maurier has made a permanent mark on my soul. Whether it was Hitchcock's adaptation of The Birds, which I watched when I was far too young, or the wrecked ships of Jamaica Inn, her imagery and ideas are unforgettable. 

And like the titular character of Rebecca, part of me still roams the halls and grounds of Manderley. I first encountered the story at a transitional moment in early adulthood. Having been a child drawn to spooky stories about ghouls and spectres, this book marked the moment I came to understand that not every haunted house has a ghost. 

The ‘crime’ in Animal Dreams is a legal technicality, and this is a literary contemporary novel rather than a crime one, but its narrative drive comes from the same need to untangle the past to set the characters free (or as free as they can be) in the present.

The writing is glorious – rich, deep, surprising, layered – reaching levels of technical mastery that few other writers even glimpse. There are several point-of-view characters and, unlike most books with this structure, Kingsolver wrings every last drop of drama and interest from the nuances this offers.

Instead of longing to get back to a preferred perspective, the reader revels in how vivid, how real, each character feels in turn. If you love LP Hartley’s The Go-Between, you’ll probably adore this.

I love this unusual approach to a historical whodunit. A hospitalized police detective combats the boredom of inaction by reviewing a compelling historical mystery: did much-maligned King Richard III commit the crimes that have been attributed to him for centuries? Or was he the victim of character assassination by those who deposed him?

This thought-provoking novel–a quick and compelling read–examines an eternal question: is history the truth or the version of truth presented by the victors? It’s as important a question today as it ever was. 

Vivid, surprising, and psychologically astute, The Wicked Girls stands out among a plethora of books with a similar premise.

There are no easy answers or pat solutions here. This is a book that asks interesting questions and offers a range of answers, through the characters, for readers to ponder. On the police procedural side, Kate Atkinson’s Case Histories treads a similar line, but Marwood’s protagonist is a journalist, which offers a less common ‘way in’ to the investigation along with a less familiar set of challenges.
[If you love Children’s fiction, check out the phenomenal Diana Wynne Jones’ Eight Days of Luke to match this theme (then, if you love it, Charmed Life and Howl’s Moving Castle), plus Jenny Nimmo’s The Rinaldi Ring and Berlie Doherty’s White Peak Farm.]

Helen Moorwood digs deep into the connections between “William Shakespeare” and the Stanley family whose massive marble tombs in Tong church are a sight to behold and weave a tale worthy of any detective novel.

She digs deep into the genealogy of the Stanleys and explores each and every rabbit hole to get to the truth!

I first met this book on the last visit Gary and I made to a beloved bookstore in Seattle. After he died, I remembered it and tracked it down. It is an accordion book, its folded pages nested in a sturdy box. It was made, Carson writes, as an epitaph for her brother.

Among the folds, we find ephemera evoking his memory, and hers: fragments of notes, torn photos, drawings, paintings, scribbles. Running through the pages—a portion appears on the left side of each spread—is Carson’s translation of a poem by the Latin poet Catullus, written after the death of his own brother. The result is an assemblage that testifies to the chaos of grief and the curious beauty it can hold.

William Butler Yeats was a truly great poet who lived during revolutionary times in Ireland. I am recommending his poetry collection because his poems reflect the revolutionary times he lived in, but also because Yeats himself lived a revolutionary life of change. One of the things I most admire about Yeats is that his poetry continues to change right until the end of his life. He was never satisfied with his own work, and he always looked coldly and critically at himself. His epitaph is, “Cast a cold eye on life, on death. Horseman, pass by.”

In his poem ‘The Great Day,’ Yeats presents an image of two beggars, one on horseback whipping another on foot. After the revolution, the beggars changed places, but the whip went on. This is a remarkable image–unfortunately, one that my research shows to be close to the truth.

Christie’s Jane Marple inspired me to write mysteries. As Miss Marple made her starring debut in Murder at the Vicarage, it holds a dear place in my heart.

In quaint St. Mary’s Mead, a man named Colonel Protheroe meets with foul play, and it’s Miss Marple’s keen insights that prove invaluable. Jane Marple may be “of a certain age,” but she’s as sharp as a tack. I admire how Christie plunks the reader right into the story, introducing would-be suspects at a rapid pace, particularly Miss Marple, who takes tea with the Vicar’s younger wife and spills plenty of tea in the process.

This one’s a classic for lovers of traditional mysteries like me!

I love this 1926 Agatha Christie standout, famed for pioneering the use of red herrings and misdirection.

With Hercule Poirot at the helm, Agatha Christie's renowned detective delves into a case investigating a series of murders linked to the mysterious Roger Ackroyd.

As always, Christie delivers a captivating and confounding mystery that kept me on my toes throughout!

Nemesis is the final book to feature Miss Marple. She’s one of the most beloved female detectives of all time, and personally, one of my older-women goals. Miss Marple is a genteel, twittery, white-haired old lady, all of which is a most useful disguise for a mind like a steel trap, and a propensity to solve and avenge all manner of horrible crimes. Nemesis is not Christie’s best book, but it is surely one of Miss Marple’s most challenging and emotionally resonant cases. A posthumous request from an old friend, the millionaire Jason Rafiel, sends her off on a quest for justice, which proves both terrifying, melancholic, and yet, in her final triumph, oddly uplifting.