100 books like The Lost Weekend

I first read this book as a teenager but didn’t appreciate Louisa May Alcott’s gift for storytelling until years later, when I reread it. 

This time, I didn’t want the story to end because I’d fallen in love with the four March sisters Jo, Beth, Meg, and Amy. I laughed. I cried. Though fictional characters and separated by hundreds of years, the March sisters felt real to me, and I was a little bereft at the end of their story. 

Along with universal themes of love, betrayal, anger, lust, revenge, and death, Little Women deftly portrays each sister’s struggles and aspirations and explores the conflicts each sister has between personal ambition, familial responsibility, and wanting to embrace the unknown.  

For one brief moment, I wished I had more than one sister…and then I came to my senses.

My troubled childhood left deep, lasting scars on my psyche. I’m a gentle, loving soul with a caring nature. I love animals and children, and they seem to love me just as much. I’m happiest when spending time with children, and raising my own brought me the greatest happiness. Yet as any parent knows, we’re not just parenting, we’re also dealing with our own issues and challenges.

Stephen King takes that reality and turns it into one of the most terrifying stories about a family isolated in a remote snowbound mountain hotel. On the surface, The Shining is a horror fable, but it’s driven by an engine of realistic human behavior that is terrifying because it shows what any one of us might become given the right circumstances and pressures.

What I love about this book–strange as it may sound–is how perfectly the darker emotions are captured; shame, envy, disgust, and boredom are so vibrantly described as to become almost beautiful.

Growing up in a corner of Naples run by the mafia, protagonist Raffaella Cerullo is brilliant and fearless. This book is the first in a four-book series that I read the summer of its release, and it made me want to pack up and go to Naples.

Discovering Joyce in my youth was a revelation. In this fictionalised autobiography, Joyce rejects Yeats’s Irish folk models, seeking to emancipate the individual from the nets of family, religion, and nationality.

Whereas the early Yeats romanticises the idea of blood sacrifice for Mother Ireland, Joyce has his hero, Stephen Dedalus, declare Ireland is the old sow that devours her own farrow. Stephen flees Dublin for Europe, choosing the vocation of the cosmopolitan artist who, from exile, will liberate his benighted nation.

Like Yeats, Joyce remains obsessed with Ireland and the tension between the national and the universal. 

This is one of the first books I read when I realized that I had a serious problem with drinking. Not only did it help me better understand my addiction from a genetic, scientific point-of-view, it also helped me diagnose myself as an alcoholic. Written for the lay-reader, it’s short, packed with hard facts and eye-opening studies about alcoholism. It’s a classic. And it’s also inspiring when it comes to recovery and treatment. I’ve recommended it dozens of times to people who’ve asked me where they could find out more about alcoholism, if not for themselves, then for those they love who have a serious drinking problem.

This book revolutionized the way I perceived alcohol addiction. It presented a groundbreaking view that alcohol is just as addictive as tobacco, affecting everyone.

The Easyway method breathed new life into curing my old belief that alcohol was addictive to only a select few. I felt inspired to break free from the clutches of alcohol because I realized I was not defective and that there is a full easy cure, just like a past cigarette smoker.

I love this book for its revolutionary approach and the genuine hope it offers in ‘easily’ setting us free from the alcohol trap.

This is the first book I read by a mom admitting to alcoholism after I stopped drinking. It was recommended to me when I only had about 30 days sober under my belt, and I devoured it in one sitting.

I found it revelatory to hear someone say the things out loud that I was holding inside too embarrassed to share. Her writing style is conversational yet lovely, and made me feel like I wanted to find her and make her my bestie.   

Many of us writers are subject to the terrible cliché of substance abuse, none so much as Charles Bukowski. Having dabbled in the debauched myself, Ham on Rye sadly reflects what life could be like if the idiocy of adolescence continues into adulthood. This book is hilarious, vulgar, shocking, and oddly insightful. Not only is this my favourite Bukowski book, but it’s the book that introduced me to his work and changed my writing forever.

This true story of love and lasting marriage in later life is told by the husband and wife in alternating first-person voices. Ingrained habits of social and personal life and relationships with both parents and children all create stumbling blocks as the two lovers strive to create a unified way of life. I admire this book for its frank and vivid presentation of the pitfalls that can threaten a union of two individuals who meet in late middle age, already well set on their paths. In its presentation of problems and solutions, this book offers the most “self-help” of these five recommendations.

As the daughter of an alcoholic, I took enough college psychology classes to know I was part of an unchosen cycle, at risk to continue the family chaos.

Despite my resistance, my personal, unanticipated, troubled behavior did emerge, baffling me, and this book was exactly what I needed to sort things out, especially when I became a parent and feared contaminating my children.

Reading about negative, senseless, and too-familiar family habits of concealment, disparagement, anger, pain, and especially the role-playing coping mechanisms that commonly develop in a dysfunctional family, gave me hope.

Family hero, scapegoat, quiet one, mascot, all of these I recognized clearly. By learning, understanding, and erasing the blame, I could redefine normal and finally “crawl out of the trap.”