100 books like The Confessions of Frannie Langton

This book deserves all the comparisons to Patricia Highsmith’s The Talented Mr. Ripley—but despite the similarities of the setting and genre, it’s so much more than an imitation.

The story is unique and unbearably tense. While I read, I felt like I was watching a Hitchcock movie: the dread and apprehension felt so palpable and painful that I had to keep reading because I couldn’t stand not knowing how it would turn out. 

I love all of Sarah Waters’ works, but Fingersmith ranks among my most obsessively adored books of all time. I find it a near-perfect interweaving of meticulously researched historical fiction—penned with Dickensian flair and grace—and compulsively page-turning thriller, marked by brilliant and utterly unforeseeable plot twists that will leave you slack-jawed.

It somehow manages to be wickedly funny, poignantly tragic, powerfully feminist, and gratifyingly steamy all at once. I also loved the Korean film adaptation of it, The Handmaiden, which not only embraces Fingersmith’s anti-patriarchal themes but ingeniously weaves anti-colonialist elements into the by setting it in Japan-occupied Korea in the 1930s.  

I am, to put it lightly, obsessed with the way Octavia Butler revolutionizes the timescape and invites us to speculate about worlds that could be. In this and so many of her books, her vision of Afrofuturism is one that reminds us that our ancestral pasts and our imagined futures are always connected. 

I thought a lot about the future when I wrote my book, and I share Butler’s conviction that there is collective healing and liberation in revisiting and reimagining the past.

I also love that my neighborhood library in Pasadena is the one Octavia Butler used to frequent!

Readers probably know Pulley best through her amazing best seller, The Watchmaker of Filigree Street. That’s how I first encountered her work too, but she became my favorite writer with Bedlam Stacks.

It is the story of Merrick Tremayne, an experienced wilderness traveler whom British colonial authorities hope can help discover new troves of quinine, a material essential for the British colonization of India. Set in the mid-nineteenth century, the story follows Tremayne as he reluctantly journeys into Peru’s distant and remote forests. 

Once there, he enters a magical world that retains just enough realism to make the truths of European colonization vividly clear. Violence and self-interest create unexpected and far-reaching consequences. Peoples at the fringes of empire guard their borders at the peril of those who intrude.

At the same time, Pulley’s deft imagination counterbalances harsh historical realities with magical threads. She brings Tremayne into a place of humanity… show more.

In this book, barrister-turned-novelist Sarah Caudwell strikes a perfect balance of intricate, cozy mystery and zany British humor.

While I adored all of the books by this author, I particularly loved the Gothic threads that run through this last one, as well as the satisfying queer aspects of the storyline. If I could live inside any mystery series, it would be this one: the characters are so much fun, especially the narrator, Oxford professor Hilary Tamar.

Interestingly, Professor Tamar’s gender is never disclosed—a pretty radical concept for a series that started in the 1980s—which manages to avoid ever feeling gimmicky and which helped me to reflect as I read on my own expectations and assumptions about gender in mystery stories.

I’ve always wanted to go to New Zealand, and I picked this up mostly because of that desire. (Also, TBH, because a reviewer said this was a book people would either be too scared to start or would never put down, and I took that as a challenge.)

Despite these pretty simple reasons for starting—and finishing—the book, The Luminaries has become one of my all-time favorite novels.

Set in the mid-1860s, Catton tells the story of Scotsman Walter Moody. He travels to New Zealand’s southern island and finds himself immediately intertwined in more than one mystery. He serves as the reader’s guide to the numinous web of lies, swindles, murders, and ambitions that surround the town of Hokitika.

Catton weaves the place into a muddy and pungent microcosm of Britain’s global empire. Her characters, especially the suicidal prostitute Anna Wetherell, take the reader into a more diverse, beautiful, and intriguing… show more.

One of the best examples of “history from below” I’ve read.

It tells the well-known story of David Livingstone’s last journey–how after he died in tropical Africa, his servants marched his body across the continent to the port of Dar es Salaam, so that it could be shipped back to England and buried there with appropriate pomp and reverence. This forms the framework for an utterly original novel that presents this epic trek from the perspective of two of Livingstone’s slave servants: his feisty Muslim cook, Halima, who brings her gossipy sardonic perspective to the enterprise, and his devout and pompous body servant Joseph, a Christian determined to do right by his master.

This work sparkles with energy and humor, as well as presenting a fresh perspective on a well-trodden path.

This book is a gripping story that reads like a thrilling noir caper.

I felt drawn into the main character’s story, both as she navigated the mystery and in her stirring relationship with her family. The intersection of her identity as a queer woman from a Chinese-American family provided so much of the story’s heart and stakes—I found myself reading to see how these tensions would resolve as much as to figure out whodunnit.

Another classic, but this time set a generation before East of Acre Lane.

This follows members of the Windrush generation as they try and make their way in a city that is hostile in weather and temperament. There is a lot of humour here amongst the occasional bleakness, but either way it’s a revelatory read. Again, language is really important here to really hear the voices of the characters.

Admittedly, I read this quite late in the game, but could instantly see why it’s one of the classics.

This novel is about the experience of the Windrush generation – the Caribbean people who moved to Britain after the Second World War.

Andrea Levy so perfectly captures the experiences of these people that I feel like I can see my own grandparents on the page.

But what I love most about this book is that it sees itself as telling a part of British history – showing how the Caribbean and Britain were connected, but also exploring with equal empathy the experiences of white British characters during and after the War.

As someone mixed race, it is so rare to find books that speak to both sides of my heritage, and this is one of them.