95 books like At the Back of the North Wind

I absolutely love Flannery O’Connor’s short stories; they are like shining gems of literary perfection. She sees through all the meaningless masks and artifices that people put up to mislead and distract, and she describes the motivations at the heart of the conflict. 

No two of her characters are the same, and she brings a clarity of thought and vision like few other authors can. Often, the characters within her short stories make jaw-dropping pronouncements about either themselves or issues of faith or morality. For example, in A Good Man is Hard to Find, the sudden turn of events can be shocking, but there is always a great value to every word she painstakingly wrote in her short life.

A classic, this book is timeless. Lewis conveys a message of courage, hope, and triumph through a unique perspective. Young Lucy and her three older siblings are refugees staying at the home of a professor during WWII. Lucy discovers a large wardrobe that acts as a portal to a strange land where she discovers many mystical creatures. I felt for Lucy when she wasn't believed by her siblings at first and cheered when they finally discovered the truth.

In the land, the kids participate in a battle between good and evil, symbolic of the Catholic church. This was a fun book to read, as I was on the edge of my seat (the first time) cheering for Lucy, who was my favorite of the bunch.

This may be one of my favorite mysteries; I could barely put the book down. Granted, this title is not full of examples of faith precisely, but Agatha Christy was a devout Anglican (like C.S. Lewis). If one is going to write mysteries, one must appreciate Agatha Christy. She was an incredibly prolific author of some truly high-quality fiction. 

This was the first title I read of hers, and it set me on a path to begin collecting her books. This tale has so many elements that build tension and create a great mystery—from the isolation of the setting to suspicion and general confusion. It is a masterpiece of a whodunit.

Where to start? Lord of the Rings contains countless unlikely heroes. From Frodo and Sam, simple hobbits who have to undergo an impossible task to save the entire world, to Theoden or Faramir, the books are full of tales of valor and strength as the good of the world strives to overcome an impossible evil.

The books are written with the key theme that even ordinary people can do great good, and that is reflected in the Hobbits. They are an ordinary race, unimportant for most of history, but they possess the courage and the heart to save their world. I love these books above all else, and the characters are all inspiring and loveable.

Having grown up in rural Aberdeenshire, surrounded by wide open spaces, I’m a sucker for a remote setting and the Lincolnshire landscape forms a formidable backdrop in Black Valley Farm.

Add in some strong women, a sinister community living in isolation, and a podcaster who’s not been entirely truthful and I was hooked.

A decade ago, the bodies of nine people were discovered at Black Valley Farm. The only suspect vanished without a trace. But then a true crime podcast brings new attention to the old mystery. With politics weaved into the storyline, this tale feels fresh and relevant – it twists and turns very satisfyingly.

The complex female characters and relationships are particularly engrossing. I was lucky to get a proof copy of this and tore through it. 

Darker than the others on my list, this is a dip into the world of true crime podcasts and a really twisty, edgy read.

The main character, Cal Lovett, is passionate about justice, and about getting to the root of a crime – not just for the family and the people involved, but for doing the right thing.

This book kept me awake until I’d finished it, and blew me away by the end.

The word ‘gripping’ is massively overused in crime fiction reviews but Unsolved is as gripping as a gripping thing that grips the reader. Hard.

Surviving in a single manuscript, printed once in 1844, and forgotten almost instantly, the Breiffe Narration is, without doubt, one of the masterpieces of Scottish prose. It is the autobiography, partial in more ways than one, of Father Gilbert Blackhall (d. 1671), a soldier turned Catholic priest from Aberdeenshire who was the confessor to three leading noblewomen during the tumultuous period of the civil wars. Blackhall evades robbers, rescues his noble charges from dastardly plots, and travels halfway across Europe in a first-person narrative written in a rich, broad Scots and full of vivid dialogue (presumably more invented than remembered, but splendid for all that). My copy has almost been read to pieces.

This is neither an encyclopedia nor a tasting guide; rather, it is a deep travelogue of Islay, a Scottish island that is home to only a few thousand people and several of the greatest whisky distilleries on earth. Jefford paints for the reader a rich portrait of the island as a whole, and highly detailed miniatures of Ardbeg, Bowmore, Bruichladdich, Bunnahabhain, Caol Ila, Lagavulin, and Laphroaig. The reader who works through this thick book will come away with a thick knowledge of Scotch whisky, and a deep appreciation of the slice-of-heaven-on-earth that is Islay.

This magnificent book made me realize perhaps more than any other by a Scottish female writer that the lives of working-class Scottish women are unique, important, and worth writing/reading about.

The book tells the story of Joy, a woman whose mental health is slowly crumbling before our eyes. Galloway masterfully tells this story in the first person so that we are right inside Joy’s mind. We discover a background of abuse and recent bereavement, leading to issues with alcohol abuse and anorexia.

That should all make for a depressing read, and it is of course heart-breaking at times but it is also ultimately about one woman’s search for what it takes ‘to keep breathing’. Utterly spellbinding writing from one of Scotland’s greatest writers. 

This is the story of a woman who is having a hard time personally, and she swims to heal herself. She swims to reconnect with her wild nature. And she is brave. She swims in all seasons, all weathers, all conditions. Once she was almost pushed against craggy rocks.

I swim too. I love seals, and know this act of taking to the water - our small bit of wild - to reconnect with my wild nature.

I loved the vulnerability that shines through in this book and I like to read of strong women who dare connect with nature to empower themselves. I feel I do that (a bit) and people like Victoria inspire me to push those wild boundaries a little more.