100 books like The Cartographers

I was hooked from the moment young Daisy Darker–she of the “broken heart”–introduced me to her grandmother’s tidal island family home, complete with a wall of clocks. I generally prefer first-person novels like this, and Daisy’s perspective kept this story moving. A bizarre cast of characters navigate questionable relationships–family…yes? No?–from Daisy’s unique point of view that eventually crumbles into the sea. And the mysterious messages that show up on the kitchen blackboard each morning…what a puzzle! Too bad I couldn’t solve it before the end.

I’m sure Feeney must have given readers some clues along the way that I managed to miss, so I’ll likely re-read this one when my teetering #TBR pile isn’t quite so high.

Because I love Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy five-book trilogy (trust me!), his down-to-earth detective Dirk Gently was an immediate attraction. The layers of mystery take quite a bit of untangling, and I was hooked all the way through. This is my reliable go-to when I need a break from reality that won’t take me too far from home. Or does it? Somehow, with the help of Thor’s hammer, his characters travel from London to the Great Hall of Valhalla and back again. But Avengers, this is not! 

I read this more than once before parts of the intricate plot really made sense, but what a journey! And its precursor, Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, has a permanent spot on my bookshelf, too.

This book is so horribly, deliciously meta. 

This was a book I’d meant to read since it was released, but I never did. Then I was asked about the accuracy of Kuang’s depiction of the publishing industry and curiosity made me crack it open. Kuang crafts a slow-moving trainwreck that you can’t turn away from, even though, at times, you desperately wish to. It gave me hives and heart palpitations. Twice, I fell asleep listening to it and had nightmares.

It wasn’t just the industry descriptions that produced such a visceral reaction. Instead, it’s because Kuang nails that emotional author spot in the Venn Diagram between your writing as a piece of your soul and your writing as commerce. Also, she’s only 28. And I’m not bitter about that at all.  

Shockingly, it wasn’t until taking an Asian-American History class in college that I learned about the US internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II. My husband is Japanese-American, and so I now also have family who experienced this shameful time in our history firsthand.

Evergreen is the second book in Naomi Hirahara’s Japantown Mystery series, the first being Clark and Division. It takes place during post-WWII and centers around Aki (a nurse’s aide) and her family's struggles after being released from Manzanar in 1946. This backdrop and its inherent social injustices are adeptly interwoven with a murder mystery happening in Little Tokyo.

In itself, this is a compelling combination of mystery and historical fiction. But it's also a morally significant book, and I'm so glad that Naomi Hirahara was the one to write it. 

I’m not usually a fan of dystopia, but Doctorow created an immersive, just-enough-in-the-future-to-be-believable world and filled it with compelling, conflicted characters. The protagonist, Martin Hench, is a self-employed forensic accountant (read: hacker!) with high-end computer skills.

While navigating an increasingly hostile environment–including a spell in a homeless camp–Hench digs into dark-web cryptocurrency and the shadowy figures who mine it, upsetting some powerfully dangerous people along the way. Hacking at its finest!

This book kept me guessing all the way to the end, and that doesn’t happen often these days. I’ve read so many mysteries over the years that it’s hard to fool me, but Doctorow manages and then some.

The perfect murder is not possible, right? Well…this book may have changed my mind! I don’t generally like brooding, self-absorbed characters, but Simon–ah, Simon, odd and way past cute-quirky. But somehow, Ellis makes him a compelling character. And the twists in what at first glance is a typical murder mystery with a spurned lover, a big trust fund, and lots of lies make a sharp 180-degree turn in the final pages.

As puzzles go, this book has it all. Dark history, long-held grudges, cross, double-cross…is triple-cross a thing? If not, it should be after this ending. And beware the Grim Reaper next Halloween!

I started this book on a plane, continued to read in my seat after the plane landed, and was seriously annoyed at the flight attendant when forced to deplane. This is one of those books with a simple twist on the fantasy genre I wish I’d thought of—a race of beings who subsist on eating books.

Dean’s world building is superb, the protagonist is a badass, and the portrayal of the fractured relationships among characters—especially with her son—complicated and relatable. I finished it (in a chair at the airport) in one sitting, and it was worth it. 

I’m a sucker for any book that dangles codes for me to solve, so that’s what immediately drew me into this novel. In it, the clues are in poetry form, taken from the diary of a murdered patient of the protagonist, Dr. Lydia Weston. But beyond the tantalizing codes, I appreciated that this novel stayed true to the style and attitudes of the late 1800s, something that doesn’t always happen with historical fiction.

Ritu Mukerji is also adept at bringing a sophisticated nuance to her exploration of racism, classism, and sexism. An added bonus is that rather than merely playing one on TV, Mukerji is also an actual physician and clearly knows her medicine without overwhelming a layperson like me. 

I recently had the pleasure of meeting D V Bishop at CrimeFest in Bristol, and his passion for his stories truly comes through in person.

After picking it up for a friend whose favorite place in the world is Florence, where the book is set, I couldn’t resist reading it myself, and oh, I am glad I did. Three books into the series, and it’s hard to put down. Cesare Aldo is a hero that is mysterious and resilient – a man trying to hide his sexuality in a world where it’s a crime – as he investigates murders in Renaissance Florence.

Like Samson, Bishop masters drawing the reader into becoming attached to the hero, with the book unputdownable. 

When it comes to Constance Greene, I hardly know where to begin.

She’s certainly the oldest and most deadly character in fiction writing today. I say she’s the oldest because she’s trapped in the body of a thirty-something-year-old woman even though she was born in 1873, long story.

She appears as a supporting character in multiple novels, as the love interest of Detective Aloysius Pendergast, but she is so much more than that. She’s eloquent, brilliant, and does not succumb to emotional distress under any threat of death.

In Blue Labyrinth, eight highly trained mercenaries pursue her and none of them live to tell the tale. At her most ruthless, she can kill with any tool at her disposal and she is loyal to the man she loves.