100 books like Sweet, Soft, Plenty Rhythm

Fun home is what the author and her family call the funeral home they were raised in. I was drawn into this graphic memoir of the author’s relationship with her father, with disturbing themes of suicide, unaccepted gender identities, and domestic abuse.

The story manages to stay buoyant despite it all, and the observations are funny. The author’s ability to capture her most painful memories in bright light and intricate detail catapulted this read to the top for me. 

That’s right—Charles Dickens! I laughed, I cried, I stomped my feet.

I’ve been in a Dickens reading group since the pandemic and am constantly amazed by how funny he is. His scenes are so colorful and alive that they play like brilliant movies in your brain. In other works, Dickens has some saccharine father-daughter pairs who can induce an eye roll, but in this book his bone-chilling father made me sit up. 

The icy-hearted Paul Dombey dotes on his sweet but feeble young son while completely ignoring his adorable and kind little daughter, who barely gets any scraps of his affection. We daughters read on, waiting for the Scrooge-like Dombey to learn his lesson over the course of the novel. Don’t ignore your daughters, dammit!—Oh, did I say that aloud?

A year before my own father died, I had read Blake Morrison’s tragicomic memoir about his father. I had marked several passages but the page I had book-marked with a card from a London restaurant contained the following lines: “I’ve become a death bore. I embarrass people at dinner parties with my morbidity. I used to think the world divided between those who have children and those who don’t; now I think it divides between those who have lost a parent and those whose parents are still alive.”

That line haunts me even more powerfully now, and I cannot think of a more true line.

I read two great memoirs for a panel I moderated about daughters and fathers. At the event, I enjoyed watching Leslie Absher and Leta McCollough Seletzky meet and realize how much they had in common.

Both authors had dads who kept secrets— big, political secrets. Leta Seletzky’s dad worked as an undercover officer for the Memphis Police Department in the 1960s: he was “The Kneeling Man” in the famous photograph taken after King’s death. 

This may sound odd, but I related to Leta Seletzky’s emotional tale of how she gradually got to know her father, as an adult, by uncovering the many layers of his life story. 

Cara Bastone is one of my auto-buy authors; any of her books would make this list. Her magnetic prose and fully realized characters always draw me in. In this book, Eve discovers she’s pregnant after a one-night stand.

I’m not usually a fan of pregnancy romance, but this story captured my heart and made me sob by the end. And the hero, Shep, is one of my favorite romance heroes ever! I love how Cara writes about men with big hearts who aren’t afraid to show their feelings, and Shep fits that description to a T. 

Ahh, Tia Williams, how I love thee. Out of the two perfect New York-set romances she has written, this one is the one that has a somewhat unexpected magic realism twist. This Harlem-based beauty follows two timelines—the present day of our protagonist Ricki, an impulsive, artistic florist with a mission to revitalize Harlem with flowers, and the 1920s jazz-soaked Harlem Renaissance era of our romantic hero Ezra, a grumpy, mysterious jazz musician.

The perplexing nature of how their worlds intersect and the deep passion of their relationship gives this romance so much fire and drive. It’s also very much a love story to Harlem, with a fabulous sub-plot about Ricki’s community initiative and how her colorful friends get on board. I honestly couldn’t put this one down!

Years ago, before we had books out in the world or even deals to publish them, I once saw Gretchen Schreiber describe her book as The Breakfast Club set in a hospital. I was immediately beyond sold, and since then, I’ve enjoyed watching every step of that book coming into existence.

This novel explores something about chronic illness and disability that I think about often–the way we almost divide ourselves into two people. For Ellie, that’s who she is in the hospital versus who she is outside of it. For me, that’s one person who’s allowed to be sick and one who isn’t. 

As a person with strong ties to biology, I love that in this book, vampires and werewolves are no more magical or supernatural (and therefore also no more immortal) than any human; they just came from different branches down the evolutionary tree.

What I really liked were the dialogues–the sarcasm, verbal power games, and dry humor. And the character development, where an isolated person learns that opening up and accepting friendship and the feeling of belonging requires courage because it also makes one more vulnerable.

I loved this book by Sarah Adams; it made me laugh out loud on an airplane. Cue odd looks from seatmates.

Sarah’s voice is fresh and original, so funny, yet sweet and sexy. I particularly adored her hero because he was masculine but not overly macho. He is a brother with three sisters. The family has a close, charming dynamic. The secondary characters made me hope for future books!

This 2022 psychological thriller was a fun read in so many ways. Like Maum’s novel, it takes a slightly unique approach to the typical affair story, following a young woman whose life is torn apart when her married lover and his wife die, and she is blamed for it (despite not knowing the man was even married!)

In this book, Collins explores the most archaic notion known to man: that people have been blaming women for things since the dawn of time. Literally, since Eve’s consumption of an apple in the Garden of Eden, through the twentieth century, women paid consequences, and men went on their merry way. Flora Collins gives this notion a modern twist. Yes, some things never seem to change—but technology has increased both the risks and the consequences of any relationship.

Vera’s entire life is destroyed by what happens to her; she can’t even return to… show more.