Fans pick 68 books like Palace of Desire

O’Brien performed some sort of alchemy in turning a previously dry and underpopulated section of the historical fiction genre into literary gold, at once gripping and supremely well-written. One follows the adventures of a Royal Navy Commander and his Irish doctor friend–a man with a secret life–through the war at sea in the Napoleonic era, and I found the balance between naval exploits–Jack Aubrey being a swashbuckler of renown–and period history made for fascinating counter-points.

Over and above that, I loved the way O’Brien built an ensemble cast and proceeded to draw the reader into their lives, making the death of any one of them a personal loss. I know that I benefitted from learning this writing trick and used it myself in my Empire series, and I know at least one other Roman author who did much the same. Wonderful stories that kept me coming back, and this is… show more.

Many of us writers are subject to the terrible cliché of substance abuse, none so much as Charles Bukowski. Having dabbled in the debauched myself, Ham on Rye sadly reflects what life could be like if the idiocy of adolescence continues into adulthood. This book is hilarious, vulgar, shocking, and oddly insightful. Not only is this my favourite Bukowski book, but it’s the book that introduced me to his work and changed my writing forever.

This is one of those books that I had to put down a couple of times previously because the protagonist’s flaw hit too close to home. Jim is so ashamed of his past cowardice that each time his identity is found out, he will travel farther away from the spreading Western colonies. A Western marauder eventually invades the Malay and Bugis community where he lives, and Jim has to bear the consequence of speaking up for the man in good faith. After so many years, this book is still one of my top favorites because Jim finally stops running and faces his fear. He ultimately becomes the hero that he has always wanted to be.

All of the Singer Brothers are excellent tales of village life and struggles. Isaac Bashevis Singer could spin a yarn with no seams showing, drawing readers in to personal and social straits. Scum, Meshugah, Shosha, and the rest capture the strife and insanity of the times. Isaac Singer often called his brother I.J. a better writer. Better shmetter; I.J. wrote beautiful tales of folksy subjects, easing as well to the verge. The Brothers Carnovsky will linger for years.

In writing my own crime novels set in 1920s British India, I am always looking for other series that take me into “Other” places, and the Makan series that starts with this book is a wonderful model. This is the pen name for Jamal Mahjoub, a Sudanese-British writer who gives real insights into cultural differences and practices. His protagonist is a Sudanese working as a cop in Cairo, and the adventures roam far and wide across the city and its people.

For me, the word pictures created here help inspire my own writing aspirations, there is always much to learn.

The book gives the reader a deep layered understanding of Egypt before the 2011 uprising to look at the state of the nation and into the heart of Cairo, an ancient city but now a metropolis of over 20 million. Written with a novelist's flare this is an intimate portrait of the lives of Cairenes that explores hidden aspects of this mysterious city. The author builds an intriguing story on the religious beliefs, family values, negotiating tactics, driving habits, and attitudes towards foreigners. This is a reflection on a wonderous city, a place of sadness and of hope, which uses the metaphor of Saharan desert sand blowing in to shape the sand castle politics of the Mubarak era that would come crashing down in the 2011 Revolution.

I've chosen this one not only because it's about growing up in Cairo, where I spent five years of my adult life as a teacher in an international school, but also for its astute analysis of how and why the memories we form in childhood differ fundamentally from those we acquire as adults. Another reason for its inclusion on my list is that it belongs to two childhood memoir subgenres for which I have a particular penchant, those by authors raised by people who were neither their biological nor adoptive parents and those by under-appreciated women novelists.

When I first decided to write a historical novel that takes place in Egypt, I stopped by my local falafel joint in Brooklyn and asked the owner for pointers. He said, “Read Mahfouz, that’s all you need.” These are three interconnected stories that span the period from World War I to World War II. Without getting too deeply into the plot, I’d say they do what all the best historical novels do; they give you a sense of life’s movement, with the specifics that allow you to enter another time and place.

I met Mahfouz on my first trip to Egypt in 2005, shortly before he died, and asked him something about the country’s late leader Gamal Abdel Nasser. Mahfouz said he didn’t know the immediate answer himself, but “when I see Nasser, I’ll ask him.”

I loved this quirky, surreal novel, which is set in Cairo during the time of the Mamluks. Alternating between dreams and fables, the novel also takes us on a tour of Cairo. He uses the mock diary of a traveler for every section of old Cairo, but then diverges into the individual stories of characters in the city. 

Balian, a British pilgrim who has come to visit St. Catherine’s Monastery in Sinai, is really a spy sent by European powers to scout out the power of the Mamluk force, as well as the political intentions of the Sultan. Soon over his head, he finds himself meeting a variety of flamboyant characters. An Italian spy, Giancristoforo, is soon arrested and disappears into state custody. Balian has bizarre dreams at night, but even during the daytime he can’t distinguish between dream and reality.

Arabian Nightmare is a book which has hung around… show more.

There’s not enough Muslim historical fantasy in the world, and this one is so lavish and full of aching romance—my favorite kind! It takes us from 18th-century Cairo, where con-girl Nahri accidentally summons centuries-old deava warrior Dara, to the fabled City of Brass, its walls covered in enchanted statues, home to rival clans of djinn.   

I love how the tribes of Deavabad reflect different parts of the Islamic world and its pre-Islamic culture. For example, the main djinn faith reflects Islam, whereas the deava faith with its fire temple reflects the Zoroastrianism of ancient Persia. It’s a complex, believable world in which I can immerse myself, full of revelations, betrayals, tugs of loyalty, and dilemmas of love.