100 books like The Eighth Detective

I loved this story because it had the rarest combinations: a great twist ending I didn’t see coming when I read the novel and a different but effective vehicle for the big reveal when HBO made it into a limited series. As I approached the end of the series, I was a little jaded, assuming they’d hew to the source material in a way that wouldn’t surprise me given my familiarity with the plot, so when they caught me off guard with their new ending, it was like I got to enjoy it twice!

Further, Gillian Flynn did a great job bringing her main character to life. It’s easy to overdo it with a character who’s this messed up (don’t ask me how I know that, LOL), and it’s even more difficult to keep you rooting for them. Flynn’s protagonist kept me turning the pages because I genuinely cared what… show more.

I’m not only a mystery/suspense writer but also a fan of the genre, as I read or listen to about forty whodunnits a year, just under one a week. I tend to read these books with one eye toward the superficial story, yes, but I also study them from a technical standpoint, saying to myself, “Oh, I see what the author did there,” “Man, that was a nice way to frame that conflict,” or, “What the hell? I think the author wrote that chapter by getting drunk and taping crayons to their feet.” The point I’m trying to make is that the plot devices and metaphors tend to blur together after a while. 

But this book? Man, it stood out. I mean, Kat Rosenfield had me hook, line, and sinkers with the book’s opening line, “My name is Lizzie Ouellette, and if you’re reading this, I’m already dead.” It's… show more.

Three things landed this book on my list.

First, I love the ol’ book-within-a-book mystery trope, and this is probably the finest example I’ve encountered. Again, an editor reads her dead author’s book for clues, and I got to experience that in real-time with her. Second, the central clue around which the story revolves—the dead author’s note explaining why he ostensibly committed suicide—and its role in resolving the mystery was one of the most original formulations I can remember in recent years. It was nicely done. Finally, the story within the story hearkens back to the Golden Age of detective fiction, an era for which I have a soft spot (as a glance at the amount of Agatha Christie on my bookshelves will attest).

Since finishing it, I’ve recommended this book to a half-dozen people and have yet to have somebody tell me later that they weren’t happy with the… show more.

As the rest of this list hints, mystery stories involving unhappily married couples aren’t my usual go-to when picking something to read, nor is it something I particularly enjoy writing about. Maybe that’s a good thing, given the standard advice of “Write what you know,” but generally, the formula (and trust me, it is a formula) bores me. 

But at the time I came across this book, I was dabbling with the idea of writing an alternating-first-person-POV book in the way this novel does (as an aside, check out Lucy Foley’s books for other great examples of that device if you’re a fan of it too). I saw the acclaim the book had received and figured, hey, Geneva Rose must have done something right; maybe there’s something there for me to learn here. So, I started the book planning to listen to it mostly as a lesson in this technique.… show more.

I love a good hook and sympathetic characters. Early in this book, the protagonist is inexplicably dumped by his college girlfriend, who tells him to leave her alone. Six years later, he sees an obituary for the guy she married. But when he crashes the funeral, the grieving widow is not his ex-girlfriend.

For me, the book was constantly engaging, with characters I really cared about, a huge puzzle to solve, frequent tension to move the action along, a strong love interest, and digging into an interesting character’s past to understand the present danger.

I grew up reading Paul Theroux’s fiction and nonfiction. His travel books riveted me, inducing a wanderlust I’ve yet to come down from. When I learned that he’d written a surf novel, I jumped all over it.

I was not disappointed—more like enchanted. There’s the macking surf. There’s Hawaii. There’s the fascinating Joe Sharkey. And there’s a very subtle moment where Paul, the author, pokes his head through and breaks the fourth wall as it were. I loved that. And I love this book.

Full confession: I only picked up this novel in my attempt to read every book with “kibbutz” in the title. Lucky me!

I became a fan of Michael Ohayon, the moody outsider who stars in Batya Gur’s series of Hebrew whodunnits, all set in various closed societies and institutions. Ohayon is like an Israeli Inspector Rebus, and no amount of duplicity by the members at an indebted kibbutz can keep him from cracking the case.

The novel doesn’t paint a pretty picture of communal life, but I recognized many of the fatal flaws of the real kibbutz movement magnified to deadly dimensions in this slow burn of a murder mystery.

Set in 1930s Singapore, written by one of the island country’s finest writers, this book features a most unlikely protagonist, SuLin, a young local girl hired as a nanny in the British Governor’s household.

Dealing with childhood polio, labeled a ‘bad-luck’ child, SuLin yearns for a life where she can become a journalist of her own standing, not just someone’s wife or mistress. Just like the other feisty women in these other series, she’s beset by challenges, including those of her own making, but she never gives up!

I’ve been a huge fan of Yu’s contemporary Aunty Lee series, set in contemporary Singapore, and I loved this one too. The descriptions of Singapore’s lush tropical landscape, the trees, and the food–especially the food–are too good to pass up.

Freya Lockwood is one relatable sleuth–middle-aged, divorced, empty-nesting, and wondering how her dreams for herself have vanished after passing through the meat grinder of adulthood.

I love the themes of estrangement from oneself and others in this debut cozy mystery, as well as the deep dive into the shadowy world of antiques trading from an author with significant personal experience in the field. 

I love novels set in the past but told in a way that elucidates our lives in the present, and this book is a prime example of this quality in Fiona Davis’s writing.

I loved the feeling of falling headlong into the real, tangible, utterly convincing world of the Barbizon Hotel for Women in the 1950s because so many of the themes still resonate so strongly today.

I also found the pacing of the book riveting, with back-and-forth chapters between the present-day story of journalist Rose Lewin and the past narrative of Darby McLaughlin to be perfectly balanced.