75 books like Silenced

This book is dystopian and is really about the downfall of capitalism, but it starts in an office.

Candace Chen has her job and not much else. She goes to work and has little personal life outside of it. She barely even notices when a plague sweeps New York, and everyone leaves, and society crumbles. Her work keeps her busy, and she does it until the money she’s promised shows up in her bank account.

What caught my attention is how well the author communicates the idea that humans become completely adaptable to untenable systems at work, and we keep doing our jobs under nearly any circumstance. Even a plague.

This examination of the conditioning we get to put work first no matter what else is happening is a painful eye-opener. Better boundaries next time, I guess. 

This novel caught my eye for one simple reason—the protagonist attempts to destroy her society with a spreadsheet. Although a fantasy in which the modern world (even office life) is divided between heroes and villains, this novel lands on some brutal truths—like the difference between good and evil is mostly marketing and that some people will do anything for the right job. 

It’s a hilarious book that pokes fun at the most absurd bosses, the things we do for work, and the real harm a toxic workplace or system causes everyone. The supervillain/hero context provides food for thought without slowing the story down or causing work-related cold sweats.

I had to read this when it came out because it felt ripped from the headlines. Sarah Lai has left behind her Hollywood dreams of filmmaking for a quieter, simpler life. But a journalist reaches out and drags her past to the forefront by asking questions about Sarah’s experiences working with a celebrated producer. There have been… complaints. From women. A lot of women.

Sound familiar? This is a wholly fictional take on past events, but it also forces the reader to examine the ways in which we might be complicit in holding up systems, and what we can do to break bad patterns.

Engaging, timely, and I couldn’t put it down. Again, women find their voices and stand up for other women around them. That’s a narrative I can’t miss. 

This book is full of petty rivalries and hierarchies that seem high stakes in the moment but, with time and distance, seem absurd. Competition between employees at the LA television station where the novel takes place is cutthroat. There’s no trust, no downtime, and something as simple as taking a day off with the flu can destroy your standing.

This book is chaotic and challenging and somehow perfectly captures the feel of an office in a fast-paced office that takes itself too seriously. I’ve been there, and I felt every moment of this book. Kaplan finds ways to point out how ridiculous our workplaces are while still honouring the experiences of the women who work there. It is highly relatable and wrenching. 

We don’t usually hear about the toll that incarcerating a mother, a daughter, or a sister takes on the family left behind. Michelle Horton’s beautiful memoir gives us access to that experience. Horton’s life was upended after her sister, Nicole Addimando, was arrested for killing her partner in self-defense.

Horton documents the next several years of their lives as she, her parents, her son, and Nicole’s children (who Horton took guardianship of while Nicole was in prison) navigated Nicole’s arrest, trial, and imprisonment. Illustrative in the mechanics of putting together a successful survivor-defense campaign, it is heartbreaking and infuriating in its description of the toll Nicole’s prosecution took on the family.

Coming out of law school in 1994, around the time of the passage of the Violence Against Women Act, I firmly believed that criminalization was the way to address intimate partner violence. As a new legal services lawyer, I encouraged my clients to turn to the criminal legal system because I believed it would keep them safe. 

This book introduced me to the reality that that system was punishing survivors and showed me how Black survivors of violence were uniquely vulnerable to criminalization. I owe a massive debt to Beth Richie’s work.

Some books may shy away from taboos, but Heather Levy writes fearlessly, dragging topics into the open and spotlighting them, so talking about them is unavoidable.

This isn’t only the story of a woman trying to clear her or her stepbrother’s names after the man who abused her throughout her adolescence turns up murdered; it’s a coming of age as she leans into what she desires and steps into that power.

I love that this is set in rural Oklahoma, a part of the country I feel gets overlooked as far as thrillers and noir go, and the second chance romance and potential that builds between Sam and Eric. This book does feature frank discussions of BDSM/kink and how an abuser exploits it, so please read the content warnings before diving in!

Until I read this book, I didn’t realize that my work with criminalized survivors had a rich historical context. One example: I didn’t know about Joan Little, who stabbed the correctional officer who sexually assaulted her with an ice pick, or about the grassroots survivor defense campaign that sprang up around her.

I could not have situated that specific campaign in the broader context of a non-carceral anti-violence movement that opposed the build-up of the criminal response to intimate partner violence (a battle they ultimately lost). Emily Thuma gave me that historical context—and a lot more to be angry about.

What I liked most about this book was the cat-and-mouse game between the two main characters, who are both geniuses and friends.

One is the murderer doing everything he can to derail the investigation, and the other is the lead investigator. The interactions between the two characters are brilliant, and the author's delving deep into the psyches of both of them is incredibly well done. 

I am relatively new to the writing of T Kingfisher and my introduction was the fantastic Nettle & Bone. Her prose is wonderful. Her story is whimsical. Strange magic runs throughout the book as an almost-nun determines she needs to kill a prince with the help of a dust-wife, a disgraced warrior, and a godmother who isn’t very good at her job. I am a complete sucker for faerie markets, in this case the Goblin Market. Her writing style is refreshing, and I have already bought a bunch more of her books.