100 books like The Mystery of Mercy Close

The thing I love about this book is that the reader is hooked from the start by a thrilling mystery as Kate starts investigating the secrets hidden within a seemingly perfect family; but at the same time, you’re also drawn into Kate’s struggles with her past. As you discover the unspeakable tragedy that Kate is attempting to shut out through alcoholism and by spending her weekends taking voyeuristic visits through open homes for sale – which she has no intention of buying; you slowly realise that you’re experiencing an unreliable view of the world, which means you start to doubt everything you read, in the same way that Kate is doubting everything she sees.

As someone who has only recently discovered my own neurodiversity (having been diagnosed late in life with ADHD), I’m drawn to books with neurodiverse characters as I try to navigate my new understanding of myself and my world. In The Good Sister, Fern, who is on the autism spectrum, works hard to keep her life carefully structured. When her sister Rose can’t fall pregnant, Fern sees an opportunity to pay her sister back for everything Rose has done for her. But as the book delves into the sisters’ past, it becomes clear that there is a dark history between these sisters, and with plenty of clever twists it makes for a truly compelling read.

I absolutely love being a mother – but becoming a mum wasn’t the simple experience I thought it would be. I suffered from post-natal depression after the birth of both of my daughters and it was a shock for me to discover that motherhood wasn’t as easy and natural as I’d imagined. That’s why I loved reading Grace Under Pressure – it perfectly captures the ups and downs of motherhood and the terrifying loneliness, while simultaneously incorporating humour, heart, and comradery between women.

The concept for this book had me intrigued from the moment I saw the front cover. James Chiltern sends a message to all 158 contacts on his phone, telling them he plans to end his life in the morning. Then he switches his phone to flight mode and sets off on an overnight train journey. While I have had dark times and moments where I was close to the edge throughout my life, I’ve never reached the point where I had actually made a plan to end things. So to read a story where the main character has made that heart-wrenching decision and to see the differing perspectives of all the people in his life waking up to that message was both heart-breaking and riveting.

Hercule Poirot states in this book it is unintelligent and stupid to say a madman murders because he is mad; I love that he looks to the why. Alexander Bonaparte Cust is a complex nuanced and even more importantly, entirely believable character. Even eighty years after this was written the story holds up – it's compelling and fast-paced. I don’t like the random uses e.g. loony and lunatic but given the times (“dastardly scoundrel” is also used!) overall the Queen of Crime did a very solid job of an authentic mentally ill character.

This is more literary than crime but Chandler has at the heart of her book a woman with serious mental illness; she captures the soul of a troubled woman and the rippling effects of past and psychosis, as well as the vagaries of memory. And there is a mystery to work out; it was short-listed for the Sisters in Crime Davitt’s award.

I’ve always been fascinated by the question, “What is personality?”

Is there someone we’re hardwired to be or do other factors so affect us that we’re who we are because of our experiences? What about extreme traits—are they an aspect of our personality or something more external? 

This book tackles these questions in such an interesting way, by focusing on mild forms of traits that might be diagnosable at higher levels. For example, if you’re quick to anger, is it possible you have a mild form of a rage disorder, or are you simply an angry person? 

One of the chapters is about adults with very mild traits of autism. It opens the door to our thinking more deeply about autism as an inherent part of someone’s personality, rather than something separate from them.

There’s something affirming and positive about that to me. I think any parent with a neurodivergent… show more.

This collection of interconnected essays, which explores writer Susanne Antonetta’s experience of living with bipolar disorder from myriad angles, is rife with facts and insights as well as her own idiosyncratic artistry. Through examinations of everything from the history of consciousness to the concept of neurodiversity, Antonetta humanizes her diagnosis and delves into the multiplicity of ways that it has informed her personal and professional life. Neither shying away from the difficulties nor dismissing the gifts that mania confers (such as her photographic memory for Shakespeare’s plays), she flips the script on stereotypes and offers an empowering take on what it means to live, and thrive, while managing a serious mental illness.

Pinky fell into becoming a private investigator, but it’s a perfect fit for her personality.

She’s naturally curious. And skeptical. But now, even though she has an actual assignment she needs to work on, she’s spending her time investigating the guy who moved in next door. But his identity is impossible to pin down.

My favorite part is when Pinky gets caught following her weird neighbor. He introduces himself as Clarence, which is strikingly similar to Pinky’s real name, Clarice. It’s like he’s saying no matter how hard you try, you’ll never find out anything about me, but I know everything about you. I had to keep reading just to try to figure out who this guy was and what he was up to.

I never knew there was a name for what medical doctor Joel Salinas described in this fascinating book: Mirror Touch.

If you are one of those people who flinch/touch your own cheek when you see someone slapped in a movie or physically redden or cringe when another person is embarrassed—you, yourself, may have the “mirror touch” capacity that the doctor describes.

As Dr. Salinas explains, all of us have “mirror neurons,” which allow us to feel empathy with other people going through physical or emotional pain. However, some of us, mirror-touch synesthetes like Dr Salinas, can have twice the usual number of mirror neurons, causing them to feel, in their own bodies, the pain of another person upon seeing or even hearing it described.

The book tells of how the doctor’s gift makes him “feel the pain” of his patients and his struggle to find boundaries that allow him to… show more.