100 books like Let Us Dream

Sapphic historical romances are few and far between, especially ones as intelligently written and historically grounded as Olivia Waite’s. My favorite moves beyond the typical Regency ballroom setting with its slow-burn romance between two 40-something women. Penelope’s a rural beekeeper, and Agatha a London printer, one whose worrisomely politically radical son might be putting her business in danger.

I admire both the lovely writing and the intelligently grounded historical setting (the story takes place against the backdrop of the Queen Caroline affair and the post-Napoleonic repression of the English press). Above all, I appreciate Waite’s deftly crafted and utterly appealing characters, two unconventional business owners who both enjoy their work almost as much as they do one another.

After life as an unpaid servant to her clergyman cousin, Annabelle Archer’s ecstatic to win a scholarship to Oxford from the National Society for Women’s Suffrage—even if accepting means participating in the group’s political campaigning. A drive to sway influential gentleman to the cause lands Annabelle and her new suffragist friends at a house party given by the haughty Duke of Montgomery, a man far more interested in winning back the family properties his father lost gambling than in debating married women’s property rights. Until he starts debating with Annabelle…

A familiar story, plot-wise. The joy here comes from Dunmore's lovely writing, deft characterizations, and the palpable tension she creates between two people on opposite sides who fall into desperate, exhilarating, and completely unwanted love.

The greatest pleasure of an enemies-to-lovers romance? Witty banter. Which you'll find in droves in Brockway's Victorian-set epistolary romance. A conservative Englishman leaves his estate to 19-year-old suffragette Lillian Bede—not because he admires Lily, but because he’s sure she’ll fail to make the estate profitable in five years.

The letters between Lily and her benefactor’s peripatetic explorer nephew Avery Thorne, the man who will inherit the estate if she falls flat, charmed me as they gradually move from competitive satirical banter to mutual tolerance, and then to something more: friendship, affection—and perhaps even love? 

I could pick any historical romance by Milan and feel happy giving it a spot on this list. Because Milan’s stories are deeply invested in exploring how social strictures and structures function to keep women in their “rightful” (i.e., subordinate) place.

In my favorite, Mark Turner has recently been knighted by Queen Victoria for his philosophical treatise, A Gentleman’s Practical Guide to Chastity, an honor that makes him a rock star to myriad young Englishmen. When a rival offers a reward to anyone who can prove she’s seduced the morally upright Mark, courtesan Jessica Farleigh takes up the challenge.

While Mark’s fans and neighbors find the virgin philosopher and fallen woman an appalling mismatch, Mark does not shy away from his attraction, simultaneously offering a witty yet biting critique of the double standard on male and female sexual behavior.

The Yellow Wallpaper inspired my book and brand. Gilman not only defined the madwoman of Gothic literature by writing one of the most haunting and empowering stories of the 19th century, but she also lived it. Her experience inspired her story and exposed the horror of hysteria treatments. This story inspired me because I could relate to Gilman and her main character. Though hysteria is no longer a recognized condition and women have gained many more rights, ideologies left over from the hysteria panic still creep in our culture and generational memory. Women are still called crazy. The assumption that women are emotionally unstable is still used to discredit, invalidate and control women. In an era where women couldn’t fight for their rights as we do, Gilman found her power by embracing madness, and so do I.

This well-researched and lucidly written book, by art historian Catherine McCormack, traces the representation of women throughout the history of Western art.

McCormack examines a wide range of images featuring female figures—from paintings by Old Masters to contemporary advertising—and pays close attention to the way in which these images betray deep-seated stereotypes about women and contribute to the objectification of female bodies.

This book was indispensable to my research for my book, especially the sections on the aestheticizing of sexual violence in paintings and sculptures. 

I loved this book – and read it in one or two sittings – because of how skillfully the author, Megan Nolan, is able to explore the pits of a broken relationship and the attempts and failures of trying to heal.

It pulls no punches in its depiction of what we are willing to do when we believe we are in love and that that love is good, and also in its depiction of what happens to us when the bad reveals itself in all its naked ugliness. Once you’ve read this, you’ll want to read anything else Nolan writes next.

Pearl Buck is an author whom I admire for her genuine love and respect of the Chinese culture and people. This sentiment shines through her novels. Pavilion of Women is unique in that it highlights a pronounced social change in China in the early 20th century, when Western values began to nudge younger Chinese to unyoke themselves of old traditions and customs. The fastidious, all-wise, and freedom-seeking protagonist attempts to dictate other people’s lives to keep her household in order, but fails miserably. She finally learns from a renegade missionary that her rigid attitudes and lack of empathy are in fact the real shackles that hobble her.

I love this novel because character development is superbly handled.

A nonfiction book that tells the story of three unrelated women and their unique but universal struggles; I loved it because of the author’s incredible talent for articulating the everyday lived experience of being female, the subtle and overt judgments, and the fact that women are held to different standards, even by other women.

"‘Even when women fight back, they must do it correctly. They must cry the right amount and look pretty but not hot." Many times while reading, I recognised myself, my sister, my mother, and my friends.

All three stories are highly engaging, but the truly compelling story is Maggie’s, a troubled girl from a difficult family who is preyed upon by her teacher, a married man with a family. The subsequent effect on her life is just devastating (remember, folks: this is nonfiction.)

A RITA Award winner, this sweet, character-driven Regency comes alive with playful Hepburn/Tracy style banter in a May/December romance. An impertinent younger sister, who takes in strays and the wounded, wins the attention of a scarred, slightly singed diplomat. She decides he must be reunited with his family for the holidays. With her rascal brother’s dubious assistance, the three embark on a surprisingly dangerous quest to fulfill heartfelt Christmas wishes.