Fans pick 100 books like Come and Get It

This book is chaos-defined, and I felt absolutely giddy when I first read it. Olivie Blake knows what readers want, and her books are not afraid to speak to their id. How could I not love a school of twentysomething lust-filled, murderous magicians?

It is also happy to scratch the romance itch; it’s the rare book where it feels like any two characters could have a romantic relationship, and many do. Even better, it’s full of delicious twists and betrayals and never lets its characters off the hook.

I love reading a book and knowing the other shoe is about to drop, and this book does it in a satisfying way. Greta lives in a house that is literally falling apart around her and transcribes sessions for a local sex therapist. There, she discovers the subject of her fascination: the cold, distant, and traumatized Big Swiss.

Despite the sometimes-heavy subject matter, the interplay between Greta and Big Swiss as they embark upon their affair is so much fun. This is the perfect train wreck in that it’s not a matter of IF, but WHEN Big Swiss discovers Greta’s duplicity, the fun is all in the journey.

Not only are Greta and Big Swiss nuanced, engaging characters, but their small town is populated with colorful side characters who make Big Swiss a book world you want to spend time in, even when you know things will go so spectacularly… show more.

Reading this book is like re-experiencing your worst breakup in the most winning way. Andy is going through it. His girlfriend, Jen, has broken up with him for reasons he STILL can’t understand, and he’s now spending his days drinking at the bar and calling up exes, which… who among us hasn’t?

I absolutely love how romantic this book about getting over a relationship feels. The audiobook is utterly charming and often laugh-out-loud funny as Andy drinks too much, tries on several new lifestyles, and pines over Jen. Eventually, the whole book is flipped on its head when you get the breakup from Jen’s point of view. And yes, Andy can feel like a real jackass, but that adds to the realism without his narration ever feeling grating.

This is my most recent “can’t look away” read. The titular Piglet hits rock bottom and keeps digging after her idea of a perfect life with her fiancé Kit goes up in flames. Lottie Hazell really knows how to do a set piece with constant escalating tension. Every food-related meltdown in Piglet proved more anxiety-inducing than the last, particularly a scene of Piglet frantically trying to bake a croquembouche on the day of her disastrous wedding.

I always appreciate a book that refuses to give the reader breathing room and puts you in the scene with its characters. Piglet’s pages and pages of bad decisions–and the empathy Hazell’s narrative still manages to weave in for her characters–make this a gripping, satisfying read.

Scarlett Clark is a bi serial killer who kills bad men. Carly Schiller is a queer student who just escaped an abusive father. Their storylines are equally gripping, with moments of unexpected intensity in both lust and fear. Layne Fargo creates a world so grounded in reality that, as a woman, it was painful to read at times—micro-aggressions, normalized inappropriate touching. Fargo doesn’t exaggerate it, she just exposes it as part of the narrative. Better yet, she gives a glimmer of equalization in the form of Scarlett who focuses her urge to kill in a direction that’s easy to root for, to want to read. It was wanting a serial killer to go on with her work that made this book and Scarlett a standout.

I’ve always thought bleached bones are beautiful (there’s a cow skull on the window seat behind me), but imagine my surprise when I fell in love with a walking, talking, wise-cracking human skeleton. That’s what happened when I read this book.

Sid, the skeleton in question, is the literal skeleton in Georgia Thackery’s family closet. She’s known him since she was a child. Neither of them knows why he’s still “alive” or how he died.

I’m jealous because Georgia has a skeleton for a best friend. They make up for that, though, by being a very funny pair of amateur detectives. And lucky for me, they appear in five more books and a short story. 

I have liked all the Gamache books, but this one blew me away.

Not just another clever puzzle-solving entertainment (which it is). It’s also a compelling meditation on the ethics of free speech in our world today as we struggle with a pandemic and elect autocrats into seats of power.

And this isn’t just any free speech, but speech coolly advocating for euthanizing the elderly and disabled, because caring for them is too expensive, and a waste—they’ll die anyway and leave society with much-reduced ability to care for those with a real chance to survive.

This speaker is a reputable academic, popular, and with hard data to support her position. Which is why someone wants to kill her. Which is why Gamache is brought in.

This memoir by a brave woman who stood up to both Presidents Trump and Putin is a revealing look at the inner workings of the Trump administration’s dysfunctional foreign policy. Fiona Hill bears an uncanny resemblance to my heroine, Delphine Roget. Born to a poor mining family in the North of England, she worked her way to the top through sheer intellectual brilliance and willpower. When push came to shove, she told the truth to Congress about Trump’s outrageous misuse of presidential power. But the book is much more than that. It is a searching examination of how capitalism has left whole communities behind as industries crumble, posing a threat to democracies worldwide.

I loved this book, which I read shortly after recovering from my first major manic episode. I remember sitting on the patio of the LSU student union and thinking, “Yes, this!” again and again.

Written by a medical doctor (a psychiatrist), this memoir offers a unique view of bipolar disorder as Jamison herself has bipolar. I needed to know more about my diagnosis, and I needed to hear it from someone who had experienced it herself. 

Pictures from an Institution, to my mind, is the best novel written by a poet. It’s comical, biting, engrossing, moving, and flat-out entertaining. Once again, we are back in academia, at a woman’s college based loosely on Sarah Lawrence, and never has academia been skewered more amusingly. Regarding the college, one character muses, “You Americans do not rear children, you incite them; you give them food and shelter and applause.” The novel’s jokes—aphorisms, wisecracks, putdowns—come so fast and furious one could lose track of the story, if the story itself were not so interesting…and jovial. It’s funnier than throwing a hardboiled egg into an electric fan. Pictures from an Institution is also learned and wise and, underneath the drollery, there is a basic humanism that does not allow you to dismiss the book as mere satire.