100 books like Maybe Next Time

While not perhaps a “romance” novel in the established-formula sense, this book is achingly romantic. This epic story truly focuses on the gradual development of the two protagonists’ relationship and how time travel both created and challenged their love. This book ignited my passion for magic-realism romantic novels and remains one of my top books of all time.

I adore the contrast of romantic love between two seemingly destined souls and the brutality of some events caused by Henry’s uncontrolled time travel. There’s also the tricky angle of the age gap (only sometimes, depending on where Henry and Clare are in their lives, but it is occasionally extreme), which the author doesn’t shy away from. And I confess this is probably the book that made me sob the most!

I loved everything about this book: the dreamy New York co-op apartment setting, the relatable main female character Clementine (a book publicist!), the lovable main male character Iwan (a chef!), and the fact that they lived seven years apart. I found it had the perfect balance of witty banter, romantic yearning, depth of feeling, and a sense of place. It also deals with tougher issues, such as grief in Clementine’s loss of her beloved aunt and a sense of self in Clementine’s search for her future path and the aunt’s own background. 

And, like every true romance novel should have, that incandescently happy ending! This is my favorite book I’ve read so far this year.

This book is everything a magic-realism romance should be—captivating, romantic, ethereal, and satisfying. As a total sucker for parallel worlds, I love the alternate-reality element of this novel. Each night, our protagonist Lydia has lifelike dreams of an alternate path in which her boyfriend Freddie didn’t just die in a tragic accident. The potent pills her doctor prescribed to help her sleep after his death are taking her into this magical dream world in which she would much rather live than reality. 

I love how this seemingly ideal dream world is juxtaposed with the reality Lydia is forced to live while awake and her gradual awakening from grief into a new world of love. It’s moving, tender, sweet, and totally dreamy—literally! 

Ahh, Tia Williams, how I love thee. Out of the two perfect New York-set romances she has written, this one is the one that has a somewhat unexpected magic realism twist. This Harlem-based beauty follows two timelines—the present day of our protagonist Ricki, an impulsive, artistic florist with a mission to revitalize Harlem with flowers, and the 1920s jazz-soaked Harlem Renaissance era of our romantic hero Ezra, a grumpy, mysterious jazz musician.

The perplexing nature of how their worlds intersect and the deep passion of their relationship gives this romance so much fire and drive. It’s also very much a love story to Harlem, with a fabulous sub-plot about Ricki’s community initiative and how her colorful friends get on board. I honestly couldn’t put this one down!

Tyger grabbed me with its opening lines: "It happened in the 21st century, when London was still the capital of an Empire, and the Empire still ruled the world…"

Adam, our young hero is running from a thief when he comes across a magical creature, a wounded Tyger. Powerful enemies are hunting the Tyger, to save her, Adam and his friend Zadie must develop the power to open their own ‘doors of perception’ and overcome the forces of evil.

Tyger is a vivid, beautifully written adventure that feels timeless, with philosophical echoes of William Blake and stunning illustrations by Dave McKean.

Neil Gaiman has probably had more of an impact on my brain and my writing than any other author. Selecting just one of his many incredible "dark and sad" books was a real challenge for me.

I settled on this one, in part because it is the perfect bookend to my previous recommendation, Doll Bones, in that it eloquently expresses the quiet joys, fears, and sorrows of childhood, as seen through the eyes of an adult who knows full well the meaning of loss, and the cost of things we can barely recognize, much less understand, when we are young.

Like the narrator of the book, I feel the ever-widening gulf between myself and my own memories. I also see it beginning for my offspring, who have both recently entered adulthood, and my heart breaks for all three of us.

I met Kevin Sacco when he was an advertising storyboard artist. Kevin knew how to sell the story of an ad simply and dramatically in a series of graphic panels with an economy of words. In Sevenoaks, I see the same brain at work. His book is based on his life: a ‘60s-era New York City high school kid sent to an elite private school outside London. Sacco’s distinctive elongated and restrained figures, beautifully drawn geometric and airy cityscapes, and genial pace can lull one into a sense of calm, so that his moments of high and even magical drama slice more deeply into the emotions. One might be surprised to discover an unexpected tear.

Nobody does characters like Jess Kidd. Every person in this story is bizarre—a monster, misfit, or malefactor—yet not one feels contrived. I adored Bridie Devine, a small, rotund, pipe-smoking detective who begins to see the same ghost everywhere she goes.

Bridie’s quarry is a strange girl who’s been kidnapped and might (depending on who you ask) have supernatural powers or be a “lovely grotesque” who’s caught the eye of collectors. I fell in love with Kidd’s imaginative Victorian London, where nothing is as it seems, and evil lurks around every bend.

I really admire Raymond Briggs’ work; he’s a wonderful storyteller and a fantastic artist with a great eye for colour. Ethel & Ernest is a beautiful book. The strip-cartoon format works well and makes for an intense reading experience. Whilst this book has lots of humour and light, it also features some dark topics such as the Second World War, mental illness, and bereavement. It is generally considered unsuitable for children under the age of twelve. It’s a charming love story and a vivid social record. I find it heartbreaking at times. It becomes even more touching when you remember that it is based on Briggs’ own family.

Angela Carter is famous for her sumptuous language, structural playfulness, genre-bending, and seductive, logic-defying plots – and if you like gorgeous lyricism, unforgettable characters, and magical realism (emphasis on the magical), you’ll fall in love with Nights at the Circus. In 1899, journalist Jack Walser meets six-foot-two circus aerialist Fevvers, “the Cockney Venus”. Raised in a brothel and a graduate of freak shows, she’s now a star of the Victorian stage – but are her wings real, as she claims? Walser becomes part of the circus in body and spirit, as, disguised as a clown, he follows Fevvers to St Petersburg and into the wilds of Siberia, where Fevvers must draw on all her cunning and strength to survive – let alone save Walser, too.