94 books like Graceling

Three worlds in one book! There’s the not-so-important world of the Ancelstierre, roughly Edwardian or early-20th-Century-ish, and there’s the Old Kingdom, basically medieval, where Charter Magic wars with Free Magic (and how well Nix thinks through the workings of his forms of magic).

But the third world is the one that takes the cake! An underworld of the dead, with its different levels, gates, and sills. Sabriel discovers her own special inheritance and powers—OK, that’s standard fantasy fare, except that Sabriel’s powers are those of an abhorsen. It’s the Abhorsen’s role to make sure that the dead stay dead, and journey on down into the deeper levels of death. Of course, the dead who keep coming back are the ones who drive the narrative!

Echo North combined several familiar-to-me folk tales, and introduced me to the tale of Tam Lin. I loved the blending of known and original—especially the mirror room, where stories layered upon stories and acquaintances took on completely new qualities. The sewing together of a fracturing magical house also fascinated me. I was never sure about the intentions of certain people until the end, and despite guessing wrong, I was delighted by what really was happening.

The world-building in The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms explores how the powering of societies can come at a human cost—though in this case, the humans have outsourced that cost to the gods. Enslaved by the Arameri aristocratic family that rules over the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, gods and godlings power the Arameri’s control of the city of Sky, allowing the city to flourish but at the expense of the common people’s or the gods’ agency. Compared to the other books listed here, this tale is more concerned with the structures of class and authority (and less so utility) that help turn the gears of society, but its examinations of these aspects of civics are still insightful and, ultimately, optimistic.

There is not a thing about this book that I don’t love.

Marshall (a pseudonym for Jesse Bullington) tells the story of Zosia – Cold Cobalt, The Banshee with a Blade, First Villain – who is just a few steps past her prime. Twenty-some years have passed since she led her notorious band of generals – The Five Villains – in a war that put her on the throne. A throne she walked away from.

She was done with it all until fate and mistake shattered her retirement, drawing her back into the world and war. Marshall does some really cool things with gender norms, looks aging right in the face with an unvarnished mirror, and gives readers a cold religion, bug-drugs, and all the violence you could want.

But he also gives readers the sort of anti-heroes that you can’t help but cheer for, a cast of minor and… show more.

I like to think I’m pretty good at guessing where a book is going to go—this is not the case with Gideon the Ninth. Every time I thought I had a grip on what was going on and where we were going, it took a turn. Every time I thought I had an idea of how I felt about a character, new lore dropped, and I fell in love (or in hate, or in a complicated love/hate thing that I have yet to figure out).

By the time I finished, I was torn between picking up the second book in the series to learn what happened next or rereading the first just to see how different it would be once I had a better understanding of the book.

Who doesn’t want to right the wrongs committed against them? I try to be a grown up and move on with my life when someone antagonizes me, but sometimes I wish there was justice in the world. Who doesn’t, even if sometimes we know we are not being mature? Revenge is the ultimate ending, and Abercrombie’s clever stand-alone novel examines just how cold it really can be. It turns out, not at all. Monza has been screwed over bad. She has every reason to want to get even—which means everyone who tried to kill her needs to end up dead. The bodies certainly pile up but when she reaches victory, Monza finds it more absurd than cold. Entertaining, thought-provoking, and more than a little darkly humorous. Take it with a shadowy laugh.

Getting to become a knight? Yes, please!

Childhood me, adult me, mommy me, writer me, all version of me wanted adventure—and swords. Her books were treasured enough in my home that my (now-adult) daughter and I both had to buy replacement copies over the years.

I read Tammy Pierce’s books with my daughter in the years before I was published, never knowing that years later, I’d be teaching sword fighting and chatting with Tammy herself about swords and books.

This recommendation is listing the one book, but it’s part of a whole set of connected series books.

This was our entry into a world of strong adventurous women, and honestly, I’m not sure I’d have ended up a writer if not for her writing.

This was one of the first books I picked up after my reading slump in 2012, and I absolutely couldn’t put it down. The story concept was fascinating; I love it when story worlds have supernatural elements and societies hidden within the “regular world.” The characters are written very well, and you feel as though you are watching a movie while reading with the authors great attention to detail in the scenes she sets.

The world building is great and offers a unique take on the classic fantasy creatures, werewolves, vampires, and fey. You really feel that “found family” book trope in this series, and the ups and downs of book one will have you hooked. 

If we’re talking dragons and just dragons–technically, they’re wyverns, and technically, they didn’t show up until the third book, but I was absolutely captivated by the whole series. It drew me out of a years-long reading slump and left a hole in my chest since finishing. I felt each book becoming part of my being. 

I had stopped reading children’s and teen fiction for a couple of years, for the first time in my half a century of life, and then I read A Curse So Dark and Lonely.

There’s a different sort of adventure here, and I think I related to Harper a little bit extra because I have a chronic illness and when it flares up, my limp is so very obvious. It felt good to see magic + that realism.

The combination of magic, a protagonist I could connect to, and fairy tale elements made me start opening the covers of other books I’d bought and shelved.