100 books like Maggie Terry

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 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.

One of the most kinetic books I read a few years back and told in a kind of beautiful, white-hot stream of consciousness, Sketchtasy is the tale of young, genderqueer Alexa and her friends navigating pleasure and survival in mid-90s, AIDS-battered Boston.

This is no “model LGBTQ person” book; Alexa and her friends, scarred by trauma and addled by every recreational drug on the planet, are creatures of the night, showing off outrageous looks in the clubs and turning tricks to pay the rent and put food in their mouths.

It’s a breakneck-paced look at both exuberant and terrified young queer people right before HIV went from being a near death sentence to a chronic manageable disease. 

The book that put British literary giant Hollinghurst on the map in 1988, this gorgeously written, fast-paced novel follows Will, a ridiculously privileged, idle, and good-looking young gay man in early 1980s London who has torrid sexual affairs with a racially diverse group of working-class men and also inadvertently saves the life of a very elderly gay aristocratic man with a homoerotic colonial past.

With its Forsterian attunement to the prejudices and vanities of the Thatcher-era British upper class, its explicit evocation of the early 20th century gay British novelist Ronald Firbank and its sometimes cringe-y look at cross-class and cross-racial desire, the novel showcases gay men driven ecstatically and obsessively by both libidinous and aesthetic yearnings—all of them oblivious to the dark clouds of AIDS gathering on London’s horizon.

I read this book as a contest judge. I’d never heard of the author before. Little did I know that I’d fall in love with Morgan and Lance. Hooked from the first book. Morgan is caught between a rock and a hard place. Tessa, who couldn’t be more ‘girl next door’–also Morgan’s kids’ babysitter–was murdered. Her neighbor needs Morgan to defend her son, who is accused of the murder. Morgan has known him for years and is determined to prove his innocence.  

Morgan asks her friend Lance, an ex-cop turned private investigator, to help solve the murder. I loved how they formed a relationship that developed with each new book of the series. I love series, especially when I love the author. I highly recommend this book. 

I love that this book focuses on the “who,” not the “what.” Most often, with mysteries, the focus is on learning about the perpetrator of the crime. In this one, I loved that the real mystery is in discovering who the victim, Alice, was. I especially love that we get to hear her story in her own words, as a second narrator telling her history after her death.

The other part of the story–events after Alice’s death and the discovery of her body–is told by another compelling character, Ruby. I’m normally wary when I see the words “strong female character,” but these are two strong, beautiful women whose heartbreaking stories held me captive in these pages.  

I am, and always will be, a sucker for a murder mystery in an isolated location with no escape. That's because of the added suspense of being trapped, knowing there's a killer among you but not knowing who keeps me turning the page.

This book does the scenario justice with its exceptional character introductions, mystery, and suspense. The clues were subtle but also reasonable for me to pick up on, and the conflicting motives made anyone a possible suspect. The dynamic between Ellery and his father never fails to get a chuckle out of me.

Set in 1920s New York City, the story follows a girl with a hidden gift: the ability to read objects. She chooses to use her power for good and helps to solve a series of murders.

The setting is a character, and we learn all about the seamy side of Roaring Twenties New York, the fun and the feared.

When I was a kid, my Mum loved Upstairs Downstairs—a TV show about a household in Victorian England and the lives of the gentry upstairs and the servants downstairs. Nobody was allowed to even whisper when it was on. 

Well, the Mrs Jeffries Mysteries would have blown her mind. Because the servants in Detective Witherspoon’s household not only do regular servanting but also solve murders on the fly. 

There are loads of great characters: Mrs Goodge, the surly cook, Smythe, the fierce-looking coachman with a heart of gold, and of course Mrs Jeffries herself, who’s like a sherry-guzzling Sherlock Holmes who can tidy.

I adore the character of Sam Holland. She is a badass cop, not willing to take crap from anyone, even her fellow officers, with a smart mouth that gets her into as much trouble as it gets her out of. Her character is written with such nuance and honesty that she’s someone I’ve willingly followed through 22 books (and counting).

Sam works twice as hard to make sure she’s living up to her own expectations as much as anyone else’s, always afraid of falling short, something I think we all tend to be too hard on ourselves about at times. The love interest throughout the series sometimes struggles with her strong personality, even as he admires her for it, which I think lends a depth of realism to their relationship as it grows and sometimes flounders.