62 books like Single White Female

I am Annette Joseph, a writer and food stylist. I spend most of the year at our twelfth-century fortress in northern Tuscany. I have written six books, three cookbooks, and two memoirs about life in Italy. We run private retreats on the grounds. My book My Italian Guestbook is based on these retreats. Writing about everything around me in Italy gives me great pleasure.

I’m a psychologist by profession and I’m fascinated by the way personalities develop and change with life events. In novels, I’m drawn towards wounded characters who are searching for something to make them feel whole. Common issues I see in my psychotherapy work include imposter syndrome, low self-esteem, feelings of not being good enough. Many people try to hide their vulnerability behind a mask, faking confidence or bravado, or pretending to be something they’re not. But these fictional characters take it up a level, one small step at a time, until the lies build and they end up in a web of deceit with no way out.

I’m a psychologist by profession and I’m fascinated by the way personalities develop and change with life events. In novels, I’m drawn towards wounded characters who are searching for something to make them feel whole. Common issues I see in my psychotherapy work include imposter syndrome, low self-esteem, feelings of not being good enough. Many people try to hide their vulnerability behind a mask, faking confidence or bravado, or pretending to be something they’re not. But these fictional characters take it up a level, one small step at a time, until the lies build and they end up in a web of deceit with no way out.

I’m a psychologist by profession and I’m fascinated by the way personalities develop and change with life events. In novels, I’m drawn towards wounded characters who are searching for something to make them feel whole. Common issues I see in my psychotherapy work include imposter syndrome, low self-esteem, feelings of not being good enough. Many people try to hide their vulnerability behind a mask, faking confidence or bravado, or pretending to be something they’re not. But these fictional characters take it up a level, one small step at a time, until the lies build and they end up in a web of deceit with no way out.

I am an aviation historian and writer, a defense analyst, and a retired, combat-experienced, Marine Corps fighter pilot. I am one of the lucky ones. Since early childhood, I wanted nothing more than to become a fighter pilot. It was a combination of good fortune, hard work, and a bit of talent that made it possible for me to realize that dream. I was inspired by the memoirs and recollections of World War II fighter pilots, and I read every book on the topic that I could find.  Following my military service, I transitioned from a reader to a writer; my experience as a military pilot helps to make my books real and credible.

So many of the books that spoke to both me and other lesbian and feminist activists in the 1970s–the books that helped us make sense of our lives and of the world–aren’t read much anymore. Times change. Interests change. So that’s natural enough. But damn, I don’t want them to be lost. I’d like to call us back to the passion and the ambition of those ground-breaking times. I want LGBTQ+ writers to work as if our words could change the world, because we never know in advance which ones will.

I write about contemporary art, and much of the work I’ve been drawn to was made by women and by artists in other sidelined communities. Early on, I also focused on marginalized disciplines: artists’ books, performance, and art that responded directly to the vacant sites that abounded in New York City when I started out in the late 1970s. It was an enormously exciting time, but also a tough one. Violence was very hard to avoid. I didn’t focus on that at the time, but ultimately, I realized I needed to look more directly at trouble, and how artists respond to it.  

I have always been interested in and captivated by horror and the darker genres, drawing and painting initially and later on as a writer. I am a full-time tattooist now but I still enjoy writing, and I produced several short stories as well as finished my vampire/Egyptian mythology novel Pharaoh during the coronavirus lockdown when I was unable to work in the tattoo studio. I still draw and paint, and it can be fun illustrating and producing artwork for my fiction, where sometimes one feeds off another.

I’m a literary scholar by training (my doctorate is in comparative literature), but the more I experienced and thought about how digital technologies were “rewiring” me, the more connections I made to earlier cultural ideas about personhood, privacy, isolation, and community. My first book, The Four-Dimensional Human, used this training to observe digital life from an outsider’s perspective. It was shortlisted for the UK’s largest international non-fiction prize and named a WIRED Book of the Decade. Picnic Comma Lightning continues this project to explore digital realities and illusions, and the books I’ve recommended here have all influenced my own desire to capture the particular poetry of these bizarre, networked times. 

I’m a former playwright, current novelist, future designation unclear but maybe something like really committing to being the person that always carries one of every kind of charging cable, just in case. I’m old enough to be properly jaded about our media landscape, not simply to “fit in” with “people” who are “theoretically out there somewhere” but because I’ve genuinely seen so much and I’m just like, I mean, whatever. But sometimes a novel forges a new path across the imagination with such an unexpected angle on worldbuilding or a blatant assault on the propriety of common plot structure that I literally swoon with excitement. I’m about to tell you about some of those novels.