Fans pick 100 books like Richard II

The summer before starting my first year of university, I went in search of historical fiction that was accurate enough to help prepare me for the module I was going to take about medieval Britain. Meticulously researched and packed full of detail that brings historical scenery and relationships to life, Devil’s Brood was the perfect starting point. It is a book that I have read and enjoyed three or four times, and each time, I have discovered new passages that made me put the book down on my pillow and stare blankly at the wall for a few seconds, pondering what I just read. In addition, this thrilling account of the early Plantagenets is the first (albeit independent) part of a series, so if you get as hooked as I did, there’s more to be had!

I first heard about The Brothers York on a history podcast and immediately knew I had to get my hands on it. Before reading this brick of a book, my understanding of the Wars of the Roses was sketchy, even rather confused. After having read it, however, I had the idea and the outline for my own novel set during that time, which I ended up publishing shortly thereafter. Of course, my writing process required more research than what The Brothers York could help with, but this book nonetheless laid the foundation of my own knowledge of late 15th-century England. I would recommend it to anyone who finds the Wars of the Roses even remotely interesting; despite being non-fiction I was never once bored while reading it.

I will start by admitting that I had ambivalent feelings about this book for some time simply because it takes a different view on certain historical events and people than I do. Still, I cannot not recommend it, because it stunned me over and over with its vivid characters and the slowly unravelling mystery that is at the heart of the story. Above all, I was delighted to find that this novel centres around two young women who have been overshadowed by more prolific historical figures, bringing lesser-told stories to the forefront.

If there is a single book that introduced me to historical fiction, this is it. I bought it at random for 50p at a flea market while on vacation in Scotland. And I read it. And I cried—a lot. It is possible that my young age at the time played a part in the enchantment, but the memory sticks with me. The protagonist Mary Howard was unknown to me before I read this novel, and I believe she has been largely forgotten in history, but that was one of my favourite aspects of the reading experience. Both as a reader and a writer, I believe that a main character who was relatively obscure but nevertheless close to pivotal historical events allows fact to be paired with the author’s creative liberties.

I seriously enjoy a good “between-a-rock-and-a-hard-place” romance, especially when the female heroine is able to navigate it while staying true to herself. In this one, King John weds his illegitimate but beloved daughter Joanna to his bitter enemy, Llewelyn, Prince of North Wales, in an effort to take Wales under his control. But Joanna loves both of them—father and husband—and is forced time and again to prove her loyalty to one side or the other, until neither faction supports her in return. While this definitely portrays the helplessness that many medieval women faced, often experiencing a forced marriage for some political purpose or other, Joanna’s courage, bravery, and sense of self in the face of so much conflict were inspiring and so addicting to read about.

The Peasants' Revolt was one of the most pivotal events of the fourteenth century, for it turned society upside-down and threatened the powers-that-be in a way they could never have imagined. Poor King Richard was only fourteen years old, and he discovered that he could rely on no one but himself to put a stop to the rampaging. Much of London went up in flames, and fatalities included the Archbishop of Canterbury! What caused this terrible uprising? This book gives us a thorough explanation as to what happened—and why. Dan Jones is at his usual best in making it interesting to the general reader. I was so taken with the whole scenario that it played a major part in the first third of my novel. 

When John Darwin got into debt and ran out of money-making ideas, he decided to fake his own death so that his wife could claim the life insurance. The plan was to move to another country and live off the proceeds of his crime. But things didn’t go to plan. The arrogance and ineptitude of John Darwin, and his complete disregard for his family, defies belief. I couldn’t wait to read this book and was not disappointed. It has now been made into a drama by the BBC in the UK.

Atwater’s Regency fairy tales include not just human magicians but also the fae.

In Half a Soul, an elvin lord tries to steal Theadora Etting’s soul, but her quick-thinking cousin helps her preserve half of it. With only half a soul, though, Dora both thinks differently and feels emotions differently than other people. (Author Olivia Atwater has said that Dora’s magical condition parallels real-life neurodivergence, and autistic readers may see themselves in Dora.)

Because of those differences, Dora believes herself to be unlovable, but she is proven gloriously wrong when she encounters Elias Wilder, one of the most powerful sorcerers in Europe. She and Elias work together to stop a magical plague threatening vulnerable children in workhouses. 

Vanessa O'Brien recounts her journey from busy businesswoman to badass mountaineer. She is now the fastest woman to complete the seven summits (both versions just in case you had anything to say about that!) She's brash and gutsy, doesn't hold back what she really thinks, and addresses some of the human and environmental issues facing the world's biggest and ever increasingly popular peaks.

This book again gives us an outsider’s perspective on the great detective, this time from the perspective of his underestimated younger sister.

Adrift in a detailed, exciting, and often horrifying Victorian London, Enola must not only search for her missing mother - and the titular missing marques - but also avoid the constraining, dangerous “help” offered by her well-meaning but obliviously sexist older brothers.

To do so, she learns how to turn seeming weaknesses into strengths, in entertaining and often very relatable ways. And I feel compelled to say that while the movie is fine, the book is much better.