100 books like Fire and Hemlock

I read this strange and riveting novel several years ago, so I have to confess that I’ve forgotten a lot of the details.

But I have remembered with absolute clarity the richness of the prose and the well-observed wit, so reminiscent of all the Victorian novels I devoured when I was young; the imaginative scope of a world in which an empire can rise or fall on the skill of her magicians, and the all-too-familiar danger of a rivalry between two powerful and ambitious men vying for supremacy.

It is delightful, moving, and an absolute pleasure from beginning to end.

I love the contrast of bleak desperation with gross opulence and excess that Collins creates in The Hunger Games.

The parallels between Panem and Rome turn what could otherwise be seen as a somewhat far-fetched or unlikely story into a reasonably plausible post-apocalyptic future possibility. I enjoyed the building of tension in the lead-up to the beginning of the games, as well as the explosive release and action when Katniss finally enters the arena.

I liked the way Collins creates an enemy in the very terrain of the arena itself so that, when coupled with the threat of the other contestants, the tension is heightened even further. 

The world of Howl’s Moving Castle immediately invites you into a place that feels cozy and magical. This book is easily one of my favorites because of its low-stakes plot and wonderfully quirky characters.

Jones takes you on a leisurely stroll through the world of the book’s protagonist, Sophie, a rather awkward 18-year-old girl who believes she is doomed to fail at life because she was born the eldest of three.

This story is refreshingly original and has inspired me time and again to love living a life built around so many of the lovely cottagecore aesthetics featured inside its pages. 

Years ago, this book was handed to me as a gift with a knowing look, like a secret was about to be revealed to me. I gobbled it up and was literally walking to the book store while reading the last chapter so I could start reading the next book immediately.

I was surprised to find the series in the middle-grade section of the store because even though the protagonist is 11-year-old Lyra, the story is layered and sophisticated in a way that goes beyond most middle-grade books. Lyra’s world has a wonderful “out of time period” feel before any industrial or technological revolution. 

Lyra is a clever protagonist, fierce and scheming, orphaned in an alternative version of our world where children are disappearing on a regular basis. In this world, every person is energetically tethered to a “daemon,” who is their companion for life. They can’t be too far… show more.

Basically, I’d recommend the whole Folk of Air series, but you should start with The Cruel Prince, as they build upon one another.

Jude is the definition of a kick-ass heroine. She takes absolutely no prisoners, even in a setting where she seemingly has less power than those around her. She will fight tooth and nail to get the respect she deserves, and I love that about her. Also, Cardan. Cardan.

I don’t even know what else to say about him without starting a whole different review thread, but specifically, Jude and Cardan’s interactions. Just read it.

This book is always on my list of favorite reads. Morgenstern invites us to inhabit a world where magic not only seems possible but wholly believable. I’ve read this book numerous times, and it always casts a spell over me so completely that the rest of my troubles disappear as quickly and mysteriously as the circus moves to another town.

The competition-turned-love story between two young magicians, Celia and Marco, moves the plot forward at a driving pace while enchanting subplots abound. Whenever I feel like I need to rekindle the magic in my own life, I pull this novel off the shelf.

I read this when I was starting to burn out on some of the conventions of YA, which made it a delightful breath of fresh air that this book doesn’t follow them.

After using a Korean folktale to launch its plot into motion, it builds a great relationship not only between the protagonist and her love interest (a god who’s forgotten what he’s the god of) but between her and a lot of other characters, her family included.

I really appreciated the romance not dominating the story to the point of sidelining everything else, and Mina’s interactions with the others–including other girls sent to be brides of the Sea God–were excellent.

Graphic novels are a source of wonder to me, mainly because I long to be good enough at drawing to create my own. Indeed, my greatest ambition is for an artist to love one of my books enough to adapt it. So I can’t write a list of fierce-girl books without mentioning Nimona: a shapeshifter who thrives on mayhem and will literally set the board on fire if you beat her at fantasy-world Monopoly. Nimona proves how much emotion and humor it’s possible to pack into a relatively slight number of pages, and also that girls don’t have to be good to be lovable.

This is a young adult fantasy novel. When I read it to my daughter as an adult, I realized it could also be read as a meditation on the nature of leadership.

It’s the first in a five-book series, and I also think the entire series is about leadership, leadership as the willingness to make heart-rending choices nobody wants to but someone has to make.

What I particularly like is that the protagonist, who emerges as a leader, does so without any special superpowers. If anything, he has super-flaws. The one thing he does, though, is he inspires trust.

So many of the books I read flinch from letting there be truly bad consequences to the protagonist’s actions, but this one is impressive in how little it pulls its punches.

When I picked it up, I wasn’t as familiar with the Persian folklore that inspired it as I am with other novels, but it made me want to go read the tales it’s based on. I also found the writing lovely, a cut above many of the novels I read. And for bonus points, it has queer representation, too!