79 books like Nettle & Bone

I was pleasantly surprised that this book became one of my favorite reads. As a psychologist, a particular quote from the book resonated deeply with me: “It’s like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.”

This fantasy novel immerses you in the journey of Kvothe, a gifted young man with a tragic past and extraordinary talents. Rothfuss masterfully weaves a tale of magic, music, and mystery that captivated me for hours.

Unlike the fleeting distractions of social media, this book offered a rich and immersive experience. While it may not be as hefty as “War and Peace,” its depth and escapism set it apart.

There’s something about an ensemble book that I love. Seeing personalities clash as insults fly and banter is exchanged really gets me going. I usually don’t like overtly funny books or jokes at the expense of drama, but Nicholas Eames has somehow hit the sweet spot for me with Kings of the Wyld.

These characters are more than just there to crack one-liners, of course. They’ve got their fair share of baggage to unpack, and sometimes it takes a friend or a brother to lend a listening ear for the healing to start happening.

For various reasons, I had very few people that I could consider to be true friends when I read this book, and seeing these burly, fearsome warriors start to grow on each other was a balm on my soul.

I must confess that I watched the movie version of this book before I read it—but I adored both versions so very much. Diana Wynne Jones has long been a favorite author of mine. Her writing is cleverly cheeky.

This is one of her most popular works, for good reason! Who doesn’t love a grumpy wizard and a deal-making fire demon? Not to mention an enchanted castle that moves around the countryside!

The older I get, the more I appreciate fantasy stories with lower, more personal stakes than, for example, saving the world from impending doom. I want the escapism of fantasy and magic grounded in emotions and scenarios I can relate to in some small way.  

The Bone Houses is, amongst the walking corpses, the undead goat, the Welsh folklore, and the magic cauldron, a story about a young woman grieving for her father, and a young man searching for family. I found this book when I was still working through the grief of losing my own father—a Welshman and a miner just like the father in the story—and it felt like it had been written just for me. 

Sometimes, I don’t actually want a lot of tension; there’s a reason this book kicked off a craze for cozy fantasy. I loved the relatively small stakes of an orc-turned-barista.

Watching Viv build herself a family out of the folks in her new town, binding them together in ways they had never before felt bound, reminded me how much we can accomplish in our own surroundings just by being kind. Sometimes, heroism is less about fighting with weapons and more about building something that creates warmth and community.

I read this book two years ago and it has stuck with me ever since. It is a book about a woman who joins a failing army in order to rescue her family. Along the way, she finds unexpected love, unexpected companions (including a vampire and an Igor), and a way to win a war against a far superior foe. As ever with the brilliant and biting Sir Terry Pratchett, there is so much humor, warmth, and craft poured through every inch of his magnificent prose. There are so many moments that brought actual guffaws from me, including a particularly memorable sock. I highly recommend this book for anyone needing a laugh at the absurdity of society, gender roles, and the military. All of which are topics we should be exploring.

I’ve spent much of my adult life searching for media that gives me the same feeling as sitting down to my favourite Halloween movies as a kid. The gorgeous, autumnal crunch of Hocus Pocus, the spooky-but-not-scary atmosphere of Tim Burton’s 90’s offerings, the magic and adventure of Willow and The Dark Crystal. It was a big, specific ask, and yet I found it so perfectly in Frances Hardinge. 

My favourite of her books (so far) is A Skinful of Shadows. A twisting, turning, spooky adventure about a girl harboring the spirit of an abused circus bear who must save herself, her doofus brother, and said bear from being hollowed out and used as hosts by their horde of ghoulish ancestors. It’s cozy, clever, spectral perfection.

Jackson Crawford’s lectures on Norse mythology make a wonderful accompaniment to any bit of hobby-doing. It fits, I think, with the venue these stories would have originally been told, something to pass the time, to make work of the hand and eye go by a bit faster. What better to help inspire some fantasy making, like painting miniatures or knitting something more elaborate than stories of gods and heroes of a bygone age, when magic was real, and the gods and giants battled around us? I started with Dr. Crawford’s YouTube lectures on all things Old Norse and came to appreciate his engaging style and masterful depth of the subject. He brings the stories to life and reveals the language as it may have been spoken. He puts the myths in their contexts. I view any day that I haven’t learned something new as a bit of a waste and… show more.

I loved this very emotional read. I loved the characters, the writing, and the story. The romance is steamy yet tasteful—extremely beautiful.

This is another book that gave me all the feels, but another story that left me feeling happy with the ending rather than feeling like I was left wanting more.

I like this book because it takes on the troubling theme of consent in the case where one person is an adolescent and the other a significantly older adult. I think in all cases of this power dynamic, the confusion a young person feels when she is eager for the love and attention of the older man blurs the meaning of consent for her.I know it did for me.

Yet the truth is a young teenager isn’t capable of consent; she is unaware of the price she’ll pay for what seems like love but is actually abuse. When the perpetrator is a well-liked or respected leader, like a coach or teacher, the confusion is worse because we are all led to believe this is a trustworthy person.