100 books like The Thicket

This book has everything I look for in great storytelling in spades: real people doing their best to cope with extraordinary circumstances, masterfully crafted by an author who loves his work.

Some will call this a historical novel; some will pigeonhole it as a war novel. In my view, it easily exceeds all such classifications. It is an incredible piece of work. I use this book for reference, to remind me how it’s done. 

I’m a sucker for great stories well-told. My criteria are simple: ignore the tropes, genres, and categories and read the words. It’s up to the author’s prose to keep me engaged until I’m immersed in the story. In most books, I don’t get past page one. Cormac McCarthy nails it with his opening line: “I sent one boy to the gas chamber at Huntsville.”  How could I resist?

True, the Cohen Brothers' film adaptation is one of my favorites, as are a few of their movies. While the adaptation follows the book closely, the dark humor overlay of the Cohen Brothers gives it a different spin. McCarthy’s book far exceeds anything that could be shown on film, both in terms of impact and realism. As I mentioned previously, realism in fiction is a basic component of good storytelling.  

I’m a huge fan of realism in fiction, particularly in character-driven tales of the dark side. This book reads like a modern-day chronicle of Earth—gritty realism, cynical truth—only set on the ghetto planet of Lagarto. Is it sci-fi or hardboiled crime noir? Who cares? It is a great read.

The derelict Kop lives and breathes among the pages, vacillating between blind brutality and a deep desire to make a difference. Kop shoulders its way through the crowd of sci-fi neo-noir pretenders. Read it; it’s worth the ride.

I love things that go punch in the dark. This book is another fine example of breaking the mold. Some would label it a “crime novel,” some “noir,” others “thriller,” and others still “hardboiled.” Bottomline, this is one kickass novel.  

I had to put down one of King's long-winded tales and a Koontz self-absorbed Oddity because I didn't want to stop reading this book. I'll get back to those guys later. This pick is a fast dirt bike in a sandstorm—way more fun.     

Mr. Swierczynski (try to type that 3 times fast) crafts one hell of a novel. His bizarre twists are the stuff of nose bleeds, all done with gritty characters in a fast-paced style that grabs you by the eyeballs and won't let go. He initially reminded me of one of my all-time dark writing faves, Charlie Huston. Unique beyond comparison, The Wheelman checks all the boxes for… show more.

I expected to be swept away by this book in the way most psychological thrillers impact me–my heart quickening with the pace, my chest aching for resolution, and a rush of relief when the novel ends, followed by a craving for more. That happened. Sure. But the twist in this book comes in the middle of the book with a buildup of suspense and a major resolution that satisfied all my expectations of a thriller.

After that, the novel thrust me into a whole new reading experience, almost another genre, one marked by a different kind of intensity and suspense. Still, it did not feel like two books in one. It felt like one story told through two necessarily different genres. It felt right.

The action and adventure in this story were perfect for the thrill-seeker in me. I already knew that being an undercover agent as a teen would make for an interesting storyline, but then the author makes Christy join a group of adrenaline junkies, and the stakes keep getting higher, and the thrills keep getting scarier.

The thing that I loved most about this book was how each chapter end left me hanging and I had to keep reading to find out what happened next. I especially felt a kinship for Christy because, even though she is a teenager who is learning who she is, she is also a protector who has been enlisted by the FBI to save people. There is also a storyline of true love and friendship that grounded me and made me feel for the characters. 

I loved this book because it’s about misfits. In this case, misfits who are spies. Spies who have screwed up and disgraced themselves and their masters at the British Secret Service. They’re led by the disheveled and malodorous Jackson Lamb, who is so smart he disdains everyone around him.

He and the Slow Horses get all the bad assignments, but I loved how each of them possessed special skills and a desire to redeem themselves. I think Mick Herron is the master of humorous spy fiction!  

In The Last Thing to Burn, Will Dean is very clever in his choice of location and how it’s become a prison for Jane.

Jane lives in a small cottage with her farmer husband surrounded by paddocks. The whole book is set in the cramped confines of the small cottage, where Jane’s husband rules over her and punishes her if she does anything wrong. Jane’s completely cut off from the rest of the world. Her whole world is the cottage.

I love the way Jane slowly realises that she may have a way out, and we join her, heart in mouth, as she plans her escape. I’ve never raced through the last forty pages of a book so fast!

I’ve always hated guests who overstay their welcome. And this story about unwanted guests made me cringe.

I wanted to personally help Elliot, who invited his wife, Gemma’s parents into his home. To Elliot’s surprise, his in-laws settle into his house all too comfortably and start encroaching on his life and privacy. Imagine that. And then as Elliot finds out: Gemma’s parents have no intentions of ever leaving.

They are here to stay in his lovely house.

This book came at a time when publishing was receiving a lot of flack for its treatment of editors. This book touches on themes such as the toxic work environment for editors, again, how editors from marginalised backgrounds can barely survive in the recent publishing ecosphere.

But also, it's got a very Get Out—esque twist that readers will never see coming!