62 books like Misery

Cormac McCarthy does the impossible in this book—he writes an emotionally satisfying, literary-minded travelogue of horrors. It shatters the reader but then lifts them up with its beautifully wrought prose.

Be patient: the novel gets brutally dark before the light.

There is a reason the TV series performed as well as it did. Even though this book series hasn’t been and may never be finished, please let me tell you why I think you should read it anyway.

The story that captivated the world and put epic fantasy back on the map is even better in bookish form. Yes, the world-building of Westeros is iconic, but the use of each character’s perspective left me awestruck. Throughout the story and across the different perspectives, the “truths” of the world are revealed in their own intricately conflicting ways—a subtle reminder that history is often written by the hand of the victor.

For those who have watched the show and believe they’ve seen all that GRRM has to offer, I encourage you to take a stab (with the pointy end) at the book series; there are even more layers to the political intrigue… show more.

I go in and out of obsession with the irascible crime novelist Patricia Highsmith. In her first Ripley book, we are introduced to an amoral but likable American character who journeys between Rome, Palermo, and Naples, trying to outrun his modest and murderous past.

The cities he encounters are dazzling, filled with old villas and beautiful things representing his new, forged identity.

I had the pleasure of hearing Sarah Waters speak at the Derby Book Festival in 2015, bought a signed copy of her latest novel, and have been recommending it ever since. The Paying Guests is set in the wake of World War I, and the historical context is beautifully rendered. Frances Wray and her mother have been living a quiet and orderly life on a street where the houses have ‘a Sunday blankness to them… every day of the week.’ It’s a life stuck in time, in a house whose ‘heart stopped… years ago.’ Then the Wrays’ new lodgers arrive, and they are noisy, gaudy, messy, dramatic, attractive. The two worlds collide with Frances caught between them, and what follows is both a captivating love story and a gripping crime story.

From its first publication, this was my favorite book—a post-apocalyptic look at a world where women have lost their rights and are siloed into specific gender roles. I held my breath when the protagonist, Offred, finds ways to rebel, despite the risk of any visible state protest.

I love the complexity of the plot, where women sometimes help each other and other times join the persecution of women for self-survival. And I couldn’t read fast enough to see if Offred, riddled with fear yet finding her core of strength, finds a way out.

It’s a scary read, as it foretells of a totalitarian world, but I felt compassion for all the players as victims of this terrible world. And I knew from the start that Offred was a compelling protagonist whose deep compassion and strength would lead the way.

Legends are made of powerful stuff, and nothing has greater power than a total flip in perspective. I still recall the gut-punch end to this book, though it’s been decades since I read it. 

Robert Neville is a vampire hunter by day and a tormented man by night. As seemingly the only living human in post-apocalyptic Los Angeles, Robert faces depression, isolation, alcoholism, and his undead neighbor, Ben Cortman, who appears outside Robert’s front door each night chanting, "Come out, Neville."

But when Robert is finally captured, and the truth of his situation is revealed, he gets a good look at the world through the eyes of the undead and is forced to ask himself, who am I? What have I become? 

Perhaps the most classic work of horror fiction in both literature and cinema. As an English teacher, I find that there is so much fodder for lessons prevalent in this book–nature vs nurture, the dangers of forbidden knowledge and playing God, the arrogance of science, and who the real monster is. I particularly love the difference between The Monster in the novel and the film, its articulation, desires, abilities, and even its physical appearance. Few written works have been more seminal.

About halfway into Red Dragon, you meet Francis Dolarhyde, and from then on, the book is all his. Forget the FBI who are looking for him, the only person you care about is Dolarhyde, the serial killer who’s been brutally murdering entire families.

As far as I’m concerned, he’s the hero. Hannibal Lecter isn’t Thomas Harris’ best villain. It’s Dolarhyde. He’s everything Lecter isn’t. He’s awkward, shy, hates his body, hates himself and spends all his time stewing on his inadequacies. If I’ve got to pick between the Virgin Dolarhyde and the Chad Lecter, it’s Dolarhyde every time.

Deep down, he just wants to be loved, but the way he goes about it is almost comically misguided. Dolardhyde is on an impossible, bloody mission to fix himself, and no matter how many bodies he drops trying to do it, I’m always rooting for him to make it out the… show more.

In interviews, Paul Howarth has discussed the ways in which colonial Australia was essentially a second Wild West, albeit one scarcely explored in fiction. Only Killers and Thieves leans into that understanding and in doing so creates a vivid, blood-soaked, Biblical saga about revenge, redemption, and the lies upon which nations are built, full of unforgettable characters and passages of writing that will make your breath catch. That it is followed by an even better sequel is the icing on a magnificent cake.

French’s Dublin Murder Squad series introduces readers to the Dublin-based Gardai, who investigate and solve violent crimes in and around Dublin, Ireland. What I love most about this series is that each book follows a different detective within the same unit and their unique relationships with Dublin and the surrounding areas. French explores not just the crime but also the men and women who solve it. I love how these people are flawed, and they make mistakes while doing their jobs. 

In this installment, Rob Ryan returns to the site of his own childhood trauma to investigate a repeat of a twenty-year-old crime. I love a facing-one-demons plot, and this one doesn’t disappoint.