Love She? Readers share 100 books like She...

Sent off to the old Derbyshire farm to convalesce, Penelope Taverner opens a door, steps into the world of the tragic stand-off between Mary Queen of Scots and Elizabeth of England, and hardly notices she's time-travelling.

She's just there, among people who dress a little strangely: accepted as exactly what she is, the daughter of an old family connection, come to stay for a while. Nothing can be done. Mary of Scots can't be saved; nor can the courageous Babingtons. It's intense and a bit voyeurish in a way, because the time-traveller is always going to walk away unharmed from tragedy, if not untouched.

I loved this story when I was a child, but what I notice most as an adult writer is Alison Uttley's method with the time travel: a real innovation. No clunky explanation, no clever rationale. It's all about hints and glimpses, haunting fragments; drifting into each… show more.

This book is an interesting spin on a well-known fairy tale. I really enjoyed this one because the "princess" isn't a damsel in distress and the "charming" isn't always charming. They are written as multi-dimensional characters with character flaws and imperfections. They don't instantly fall in love. They bicker and disagree, but then learn how to work together to free her family from the curse that put her in the middle of the forest. I like the reality of having to learn how to work with someone else and the growth that comes from that learning.

I love The Host because it has two female heroes, but one is a parasite inside the other. When a parasitic alien race, the Souls, invades earth, Wanderer is placed in the body of Melanie Stryder. When implanted, Souls are supposed to completely subsume the host, but Melanie Stryder won’t give up her mind or her body that easily. Melanie is a hero because of her strength and willingness to sacrifice anything to maintain her autonomy. Wanderer is a hero because of her empathy and willingness to defy the construct of her society and forge a new path. The book is the most interesting portrayal of the capacity for sentient beings to develop empathy against all odds that I’ve ever read. It’s also a remarkable portrayal of a most imaginative female bond.

George MacDonald was a Scottish preacher who turned to fantasy fiction, and became a sort of Victorian superstar: “Queen Victoria gave copies of Robert Falconer to her grandchildren. Everybody read his books—Lewis Carroll, John Ruskin, H.G. Wells, Charles Dickens, Edna Lyall, Mark Twain . . . as well as the queen herself.”

I don't think I can explain the attraction to modern reader, you'll get it or you won't: I first met his novel-length “romances” (Phantastes and Lilith) when I was eight, suffering after a horrible trip to the dentist, and found the stories very weird and comforting. Whereas most “fairy tales” are quite brutal, if you're paying attention.

I love the entire Dune series, but most readers don't get past the first book. The characters retained the growth and development from the first book and we see how they continue to deal with their differing struggles, like Chani who desperately wants children, while Paul knows that her desire will bring her death. Unable to marry Chani, Paul has taken a wife, in name only, but the woman loves him and desperately wants to be loved by him. I saw myself in these two women who wanted such simple things, but for reasons out of their control, were not able to have them. It made me realize that sometimes we have to let go of what we want and just be grateful for what we have, for as long as we may have it.

This was another one with an amusing plot twist. Lord Arthur is engaged to be married when, one night at a party, a fortune teller tells him that he will commit a murder. Lord Arthur doesn't want to bring that horror into his new marriage and thus resolves to do the deed before he marries. He postpones his wedding, promising his beloved they will marry as soon as he's taken care of some "business". Poor Lord Savile is a terrible murderer and can't seem to manage to actually kill anyone. I loved this book because it was just so absurd. Some odd little man tells Lord Sevile he will commit a murder, and Lord Sevile never once questions his fate. It was an excellent reminder to me that we shouldn't base our actions on what someone else says. 

R.Murray Gilchrist was a Derbyshire man from a good Derbyshire family, liked or loved by the local people he met and helped, but a loner, a total oddity in the wild English Peak District of a hundred years ago: who wanted to be an artist of all things.

His stories are grotesque, sad, touching, and strange; all at once. He doesn't seem to set out to frighten the reader, not at all, but there's a sense of eerie, rather dreadful, longing that will haunt you. As Ellis Reed says (read the article), this was Lovecraft before Lovecraft, but with no cute tentacled monsters to lighten things up. Don't read them all at once.

A Japanese ghost story, set in an imaginary, contemporary, Japanese town by a Singaporean first novelist.

I picked this out at Brighton Library because I liked the cover, but Clarissa Goenawan's Rainbirds has survived the goodreads treatment, so hopefully she's a writer to watch (I mean, there will be more of these).

Readers have recalled Haruki Murakami, because it's allegedly Japanese, and a bit off-kilter, but to me this dreamlike narrative seemed fresh and floating: ungrounded, not alienated. I thought of another Japanese writer, Kazuo Ishiguro, & The Buried Giant: a misty, off-kilter take on Arthurian Britain, in which everyone seems either asleep, or else making the journey the dead make to wherever they go, while dreaming the novel's action...

No, I give up, I can't explain the charm, you'd have to try it and see, & yes, those are goldfish, not any kind of birds on the cover, and… show more.

This collection by one of Uganda’s premier speculative fiction writer/directors features strange, wonderful worlds and deeply fascinating characters with compelling stories uncompromisingly but accessibly rooted in African perspectives and mythologies and I’ve recommended it often. Sometimes leaning literary, other times heavily genre, Dilman has a gift for layering the fantastic on top of the real. The bizarre over the mundane. The prose is direct and clear, and the descriptions are lush. Every story here makes great use of East African culture, mythology, folklore, politics, and everyday life to tell great stories which anyone can enjoy.