100 books like Light From Uncommon Stars

I love necromancers in space settings and opinionated characters with a strong voice, and Tamsyn Muir’s book did not disappoint. The book gradually ramps the action, emotion, and secrets until I couldn’t put it down. I was pulled into Gideon’s plight, first as she attempts to yet again escape indentured servitude to the necromancer Harrow, then as she helps Harrow navigate the deadly mysteries of Caanan House in exchange for her freedom.

I loved the fraught relationship between Harrow and Gideon as they navigated their complicated emotions and expectations of each other. The ending was particularly poignant, as their earlier assumptions were shattered in magnificent fashion, thrusting them into a situation neither wanted and revealing the true lengths they’d willingly go to for each other.

I love books that can take me to places I have never been and where good can overcome evil. This story follows several mythical creatures who call upon Meg to face her lack of self-confidence and venture into a quest to save her father (a scientist experimenting with time travel).

They tell her he is caught in a realm of unbelievable beauty and ambiguity on a distant planet. However, there is a real risk of never returning home, as the evil entities that are holding her father captive also jeopardize the entire universe with the threat of total obliteration.

Another reason that I liked this book is the invented mythology of several characters and the universe mixed with mathematical theory to weave a story of unconditional love and unwavering courage.

Bigolas Dickolas Wolfwood famously rocketed this book to the top of the bestseller list four years after its publication. Whatever you’ve heard about this inventive epistolary time travel romance, I promise you that it lives up to that hype. It won me over immediately with its lyrical prose, clever sci-fi conceit, and charged romantic tension between dueling protagonists.

I love dystopian fiction, but there’s something even more impressive about well-written utopian fiction. I’m even more impressed when authors remember that our various visions of utopia can be in conflict with one another and with our own individual connections and desires. Time War weaves poetry out of the multiverse and had me sobbing over two women who would rather burn down every world than lose each other.

The Space Between Worlds is less time travel than it is parallel dimensional travel but I think it’s worth fibbing for.

Cara is a traverser – someone who can travel between different versions of her world. She retrieves data about those worlds – what went wrong and what went right – and brings it back to her own for study. She can do this because the Caras in these worlds are all dead. Except when one isn’t, royally mucking up her job.

This book is gritty and queer (though I’m not going to promise an ending wrapped up in a bow) and the method of travel the author created makes for a unique and thought-provoking read.

This queer memoir takes us to New York City to explore the unfolding queer life of a child of Bengali immigrants in her difficult decision to divest from parents, colleagues, and friends’ expectations for her life. After taking up architecture as a career and attending Harvard to the delight of her parents, Anjali realizes that her real interest lies in creating graphic literature. This coincides with another journey away from the expected future marriage and family toward exploring and affirming her sexuality and attraction to women. In often spare and simple settings with clean lines that let readers fill in the gaps – for example, with picture frames containing blank canvasses rather than pictures – Anjali creates her own pictures, both as a graphic artist and in imagining her own life. 

Love lies at the heart of this fictionalized memoir. A full recipe from Anjali’s father’s repertoire, a culinary interest… show more.

I read an excerpt of Sarahland’s titular story online, and immediately knew I needed this book; I’ve never clicked an “order” button so fast, and when it arrived in my mailbox, it exceeded expectations.

The most obvious element that connects these stories are girls and women named Sarah (or Sara, or Sari), and each Sarah is struggling through an intense hunger and desperation to understand herself in relation to others and her strange, strange world.

These stories are delightfully queer, and bend gender as well as genre. 

I found this book through TikTok after a surge of booktokers started to recommend it.

I was instantly intrigued by the premise: presumed dead at Waterloo, a soldier decides to live as herself—trans woman Viola loses her wealth, her title, and her childhood friend Gracewood. But years later, fate draws them together again, and they must contend with their desires and their past together.

This book! I cried, I laughed, I had so many emotions reading this tale. Against all odds, they find each other, they communicate through the unique challenge of attraction after years and Viola’s new womanhood.

There are some incredibly hot scenes which feel all the more tantalizing for the novel’s historical setting. I’ve lent this book to several friends just hoping they experience the same joy I did. 

This remarkable novel, patterned lightly after James Joyce’s Ulysses, is the tale of Carlotta Mercedes, a Black and Hispanic transgender woman who returns to her Brooklyn neighborhood after serving decades in prison because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Unfolding almost in real time over the 2015 July 4 weekend, the book has a chaotic, madcap energy and toggles seamlessly throughout between a traditional third-person narrative and the hilarious, heartbreaking first-person monologue inside Carlotta’s brilliant, bonkers head.

Reading this novel is like getting on a nonstop rollercoaster with a narrator who will crack you up and make you root for her right up to the ecstatic final page.

Like a hipster Brooklyn transgender Sex and the City, this novel is a chatty, hilarious, and moving look at queer folks grasping for parenthood and family in a world where all the rules have been thrown out.

The book’s narrator, transwoman Reese, takes us on this ride with such sardonic, poignant insight about the world she lives in that we begin to feel like we live in it, too. When Reese’s ex, Ames—who has detransitioned from his former transwoman identity, Amy—gets his straight female boss pregnant, the three of them begin negotiating how they might raise the child together.

But the novel’s true power lies in how Reese explains her life and her friends to us—bravely refusing to portray trans people as angelic role models and instead offering something deeper and more endearing: showing them as real people.

This book impressed me because it doesn't shy away from its subject matter. The author tells about her journey and the struggles that pile up when she seeks professional help to transition but meets instead with a therapist who quickly becomes overwhelmed as they unpack trauma and dissociative identity disorder. With a whopping 904 pages, it's intense, but never gets dense. Entry is low-threshold and the quirky characters drew me in in no time. So much so that even when I didn't know who to believe, I was ready to believe anyone. This book perfectly illustrates the problems around gatekeeping of transgender healthcare and its complex intersections with mental health.