100 books like Still Life

Okay, you've almost certainly heard of this one. You might even be thinking that The Husband's Secret is a more obvious choice for this list. But I'm including BLL anyway because I couldn't believe how enthralling it was (even though I've been a Liane Moriarty fan since The Hypnotist's Love Story).

Many of the entries on this list have depicted a marriage that looks perfect from the outside but is rotten within. This book inverts this formula, or at least complicates it—Celeste thinks her marriage is perfect (or is telling herself she thinks that), but it's obvious from the reader's outside perspective that her husband is an abuser.

There are many intriguing threads woven through this story (all coming together in a showdown so satisfying that I read it several times), but the scenes with Perry are the most impressive. They left me sick with fear.

Christine has a brain injury, which causes her memories to degrade every time she sleeps. She wakes up every morning as a blank slate, and her devoted husband explains who she is and then helps her get through the day. Unbeknownst to him, she starts keeping a journal—and soon realizes that his story about how she was injured is a little different each time.

I'm never in the mood for a thriller with a big twist in the penultimate chapter. I always want one with a big twist at the end of every chapter, and this book absolutely delivers. Is the husband a good guy or a bad guy? I changed my mind a dozen times over the course of this book, expertly manipulated by the author. I read the whole thing aloud to my wife on a long drive, and the time went by in a blink.

Ainsley and Peter are struggling, and they decide to try an open marriage. A risky proposition, given that neither trusts the other—and rightly so, the reader soon discovers. But when one of Ainsley's dates follows her home and Peter kills him, they are forced to co-operate so they can get away with the crime. Nothing like a joint project to rekindle the flames of passion!

This book is nearly perfect. Yes, there are a few twists which could have been foreshadowed better, but the wicked glee with which the author tells her story is contagious. I could practically hear her palms rubbing together as I read.

Pippa has everyone else's dream husband. Not only is Gabe gorgeous and a loving father to their two daughters, but he's also a bona fide hero—they live in a house on the edge of a cliff, and Gabe has talked several would-be jumpers out of committing suicide. But one day, a woman falls to her death. Pippa doesn't see the event, but she does see Gabe a split-second later, arms outstretched—did he reach out to save the woman, or did he push her off the edge?

It's a great set-up, and the author refuses to rest on it. The story takes one bold leap after another (if you'll pardon the expression) but never leaves the reader behind. When I realized that half the chapters would be narrated by the dead woman, speaking from beyond the grave, I should have been disbelieving, but instead, I was even more intrigued.

It’s not the scariest Stephen King novel I’ve ever read—I’d give that honor to The Shining—but this book remains my all-time favorite.

The story of John Smith, who awakens from a five-year coma with psychic powers that are more curse than blessing, plays to King’s greatest strength as a writer: the ability to create believable characters who you really care about.

The book is also a time capsule of American politics in the 1970s—one that seems newly relevant in the 2024 presidential season.

Occasionally, there comes a book that is so compelling it demands to be read, breathless, from the very first page to the very last. Dead Girls Can’t Tell Secrets is one such book. This story contains so many twists it resembles a shockingly mangled slinky I delighted in attempting to untangle. I failed to predict the ending, but had fun guessing with every new bit of information the author revealed. It’s exactly what I look for in a young adult thriller.

The twists! The turns! The head-spinning lies! The problem with being an author is that I often know within a few pages exactly how a book will end. Although it doesn’t bother me (because the journey is just as important as the destination, in my opinion), it’s always really exciting when I come across a book where I have no clue WTF is going on.

The layers of deception, half-truths, lies, manipulations…they had me wondering where on earth this was going. I defy anyone to work out everything that’s going on.

A short, eerie, and mysterious fever dream of a novella with a secret you may not realize your first time through--hidden messages in the text! I won't spoil what they are or how to find them here, but I will say that ever since reading this book I may or may not try to crack similar codes in nearly every book I pick up. (I may or may not have also done something similar in my own writing; hat tip to Mr. Garland for the inspiration.)

This set of interlocked novellas opens with a comatose detective – a legend in his time – apparently conducting an interrogation through means of electrical signals sent from his brain to a computer. I was skeptical.

I’m a fan of the rules that Sayers and the Detection Club developed: no magic, no ‘jiggery-pokery’, no mystery poisons or miracle drugs, only the fair play of putting the evidence before the reader and letting them practice deduction. My skepticism was totally misplaced.

Chan Ho-Kei’s brilliant work tells the history of twentieth-century Hong Kong through the careers of two policemen. Each novella pays homage to the classic genres of crime fiction, and they build up to twists and revelations that are both shocking and completely faithful to fair play as Sayers knew it.

Witty writing is important to me both as a writer and a reader, and Palahniuk’s prose is sharp,  aggressive, and biting, with more wit than most writers know what to do with. It’s a hard feat as a writer to be witty and aggressive and still maintain the flow of the story, and Palahniuk does it over and over, with this book being a stand out for me.

Not too many books can make me laugh out loud, shudder, cringe, and keep turning the pages like this one did.