100 books like Blanca & Roja

Fairy-tale retellings are my favorite subgenre, and this book hit every right note for me. I loved the incorporation of stories, known and unknown to me, with art so beautiful there are days I pick this book up just to marvel at it.

The last one brought tears to my eyes, a feat that doesn’t happen often, superseded only by the end of the novel. I cannot recommend it enough.    

To me, what’s most striking about this book, a queer retelling of “Snow White,” is that in addition to the POV of the Snow White character, Lynet, there’s also narration from Mina, the Evil Queen insert. Only in this retelling Mina isn’t a superficial villain.

In fact, she’s no villain at all. I find her to be a complex heroine, and her relationship with Lynet is equally rich and complicated. I was compelled by Lynet and Mina’s struggles under the weight of feminine and royal expectations. Despite their conflicts, they are more alike than they are different, and their journey to realizing this was so satisfying.

The sapphic romance between Lynet and a surgeon provides a lovely subplot that adds to, rather than distracts from, the main storyline. One of my all-time favorite sapphic retellings.

This novella has some of my favorite descriptions of the natural world and I love how it plays with its protagonist’s sense of time.

The lead character and his relationship to the forest draw from the mythology of the Green Man, and it’s a fantastic example of how much the narration style can be affected by the viewpoint character.

Tesh’s pose is dreamlike and slow, and all of its elements—the plot, the characters, the relationships—unfold slowly, like winter melting into spring.

Stories rife with forest magic and characters who learn to let go of past hurts are two of my favorite things, and Silver in the Wood executes both beautifully. 

This is a collection of short stories that mixes fairy tales and myths to create six spooky, atmospheric retellings.

A few of the short stories, like “The Witch of Duva” (which borrows from “Hansel and Gretel”) deal with some dark themes, and “When Water Sang Fire,” is a deeply tragic, sapphic work inspired by “The Little Mermaid.”

My favorite of the collection is “The Soldier Prince” which combines “The Nutcracker” and “The Velveteen Rabbit” to produce a story with a fascinating take on agency, love, and self-awareness.

It’s queer in a way I don’t think I can define; I was still thinking about that story weeks after I finished it, and I would—in a heartbeat—read a whole novel about that particular nutcracker.

This is the Twelve Dancing Princesses meets the Hunger Games! It’s a great start to a new series of fairytale retellings that manages to take some well-known stories and make them feel new. All while maintaining that familiar comfort of what we expect from a classic tale. It’s a great weaving of old and new that has you rooting for these princesses and wondering whose story you’ll get to read next.

I loved McLemore’s retelling of “The Red Shoes” because the novel felt uniquely historical and modern due to its dual timelines, with one storyline in 1518 and the other five centuries later. Despite being so far apart, the timelines were connected by the intriguing mystery of a dancing fever. 

Another element I loved is that the 1518 timeline featured a queer romance with a trans character, which you don’t see often, even in queer retellings, and added another layer of richness to the story.

I’m a fan of everything McLemore writes because of their lush prose and compelling characters, but this one remains my favorite of theirs.

Bizarre, misshapen, and sweet, this is the Roald Dahl book I find most alluring. A much-beloved tale, the plot sounds phantasmagoric in distillation: a house-sized peach sprouts overnight from a tree outside the shack where young James is essentially kept imprisoned by two cruel aunts; the boy tunnels into the fruit’s pit, befriends the band of enormous talking insects within, and the whole gang embarks on an adventure where the peach bobs out to sea, is carried through the air by hundreds of seagulls, is attacked by creatures who live on clouds, and eventually comes to rest on the spire of the Empire State Building. Intrigue, humor, and rambunctious versifying abound—and the once-forlorn James is not only unvanquished but happy. Nice ending.

Imagine if you could meet someone from the past without realising? This is what drew me to this magical book. When you are young there are things you just don’t question and this is what I was like. I saw things that adults would have said weren’t there. But I didn’t believe them. I only believed in the power of my imagination. For me anything could appear; a small creature under a tree in the garden or Santa’s sleigh flying through the sky at Christmas – it was all so real I could reach out and touch it. In Darkling Wood is one of those stories that wrap themselves around you and whisk you away, where you’ll leave believing in magic!

I read The Hazel Wood while writing my own book, and the vibe immediately struck me as similar. It takes the protagonist, Alice, on a journey between our world and a world of dark, original fairytales, where stories are the very fabric of the universe. The more entangled the story becomes in the fairytale world, the more the book itself reads like one...it feels like a dream, with events unfolding unpredictably as we learn the rules of the new world and what the characters from it want. 

If you’re looking for a darker, more violent set of short stories, look no further. Another running theme in this collection I loved is the cleverness that goes into the plots, many of which deal with revenge and murder in unique ways. I liked how the things doing the killing were varied and utilized in unexpected styles. Whether that was a truck driver seeking revenge on a gang of bikers or carousel horses coming to life to terrorize teens, or a faun doling out justice to a group of hunters, these stories left me unsettled yet creatively satisfied.