100 books like Sorcerer to the Crown

Mia Corvere – the protagonist of the Nevernight Chronicles – and her offsider Ashlinn Jarnheim are very close to being my absolute favourite female protagonists of all time. I adore their partnership, and I enjoy how ruthless and practical both of them can be—while also caring very much about those they love.

Mia wants revenge for the execution of her father when she was a small child, she trains under a mysterious mentor throughout her childhood so that she can attend a violent assassin school. There, she intends to learn everything she needs to be good enough to take down her father’s killers. Of course, it’s not quite as easy as all that, but Mia’s journey is a twisty, interesting, complex one that will leave you compulsively turning pages. This is a dark, moody, and sometimes gruesome read. If you prefer your fantasy a little lighter, be warned before starting… show more.

Imagine if Downton Abbey neighbored Faerie. Then make the idea ten times more awesome, and you have The Lord of Stariel. I discovered it right before the final book in the quartet came out and binged them all.

The premise—a family’s magical estate will choose its next lord after the old one passes on—is intriguing enough. But what really sold me on this book is Hetta, the prodigal daughter. She’s level-headed, sharp-witted, and unwilling to be limited by society’s (or her family’s) ideas about the proper role of a lady. 

I don’t want to tell you too much about her counterpart—the book should unfold its secrets. But he’d make a strong showing in a Best Hero contest.

This book is the reason I write fantasy. It shaped me in integral ways by showing me a Black woman who was both magic and loved, who altered the course of an entire kingdom—an entire world.

The writing is incredible, the story has so many layers to it, and from start to finish it’s an incredible story. It’s one of the few books I wish could read for the first time again.

In the nineteenth-century setting of Snowpelled, the proper role of a lady is politics, and magic is the domain of men. Cassandra Harwood is the one scandalous exception—but something’s gone wrong. At the start of the story, all we know is that even the simplest spell is now out of her reach.

The mystery unfolds as Cassandra attempts to outsmart an elf lord and avoid her (absolutely delightful) ex-fiancé, the latter task no less difficult than the former. 

I love third-person point of view, but one of the joys of this book is getting the story directly from Cassandra—a woman who became a magician by “utterly refusing to give up on my great plans until the world around me finally saw sense and accepted them.” 

What if a society blessed one form of magic use while all but criminalizing the other? Marnie Becker was born a witch in this world, which puts her forever at the margins. She tries to stay (mostly) out of trouble—until it finds her in a big way.

I absolutely love that magic here has a scent, from a hint of maple syrup to a reek of burnt meat. And that her love interest, Bran, declares, “You are never more beautiful to me than when you fix my math.” And that Marnie starts to believe she could help change her country for the better.

The best description of sainthood I have ever found. In The Curse of Chalion, Bujold starts from a world of visceral reality with a new religion based on family archetypes. 

In her world, these gods are real and play very specific roles within the society, and well-constructed prayer opens up a space for the gods to use one for their purposes. As the main character learns what it means to be a saint, to allow miracles to flow through him (as he says, “like a mule being whipped up the mountain pass”), we see the difference between supportive and unsupportive roles, how failure can lead one astray and how the journey home can be long and difficult. 

Warning: This book contains scenes and situations not suitable for children.

Shapeshifting lizard people. Oh. You want me to say something else?

How about... a world like no other, peopled by all manner of beings (but no humans, which is honestly a delight). The setting is so fantastic, but also so meticulously designed—every settlement and civilization feels organic, fully realized, and unlike anything else. But what about the story—?

Moon doesn't know where he's from, but he knows he's the only shapeshifter he's ever met, and the only person with wings...and worse, he thinks he's part of the terrible Fell, a species that seems to be invasive and hostile and looks a lot like him.

Then he meets another Raksura, and learns how wrong he's been about everything, including himself. 

I’ve been reading Glenda Larke for years and I beta-read for her a lot. This book is special to me because it was great to give feedback on the draft but also to wonder at her genius and writing process. The great cast of characters adhere to the heart, and I was behind each and everyone. The book also was up for a few awards and when Larke won, I was there to accept an award for her.

Whenever I see suddenly this remarkable book on my bookshelves, I wonder how the author, writing in later years of his life, was able of combining his practical experience in Africa with his theoretical engagement of Africa. The author narrates sympathetically how African political elites who embraced Western alien institutions and state ideals failed to reconsider the reconfiguration of the nation-state on their continent.

This travel diary by the Nobel Prize winning French writer was published in 1927 and expertly translated by his lifelong friend Dorothy Bussy. Gide dedicated his book and its sequel, Return from Chad, to Joseph Conrad, whose Congolese itinerary Gide retraced in part. In 1926 and 1927, the Frenchman spent ten months in Equatorial Africa with his lover Marc Alégret, making no secret of his sexual preference for young men and boys. In these travelogues, Gide fiercely criticized French colonialism and especially France’s “concessionary companies,” the large monopolistic firms that cruelly exploited Congolese laborers forced under inhuman conditions to harvest raw rubber. France’s Congo colony reproduced the excesses of its Belgian counterpart, despite the efforts of Gide and other prominent French figures to reform it.