100 books like The Thursday Murder Club

I really enjoyed this historical mystery novel. It is an early example of a narrative being told from multiple perspectives, some unreliable; beware!

The novel is a classic with beautiful language and sentence construction. I feel there is an elegance and craft given to this narrative rarely found in today’s commercial mystery genre. Sit back and enjoy being seduced by Wilkie Collins.

This is the cleverest, funniest, best Sherlock Holmes homage ever. It’s Montana, 1893, and I’m watching the red-headed Amlingmeyer brothers, down-on-their-luck ranch hands, entertain themselves reading Holmes stories in Harper’s Weekly.

Big Red, the younger brother, is reading to his older brother, Old Red (all of 27). Old Red might be illiterate, but I’ll match his “detectifyin’” skills with Holmes’ any day. I love Big Red’s reluctant but loyal acceptance of his role as Watson as the two cowpokes deal with stampedes, mysterious deaths, and cowboys named Puddin-foot and Swivel-eye.

No matter what Big Red tells him, Old Red doesn’t quite believe the Holmes stories are fiction. But I believe Hockensmith’s stories are exactly what Mark Twain would have written if he’d come up with this brilliant idea.

This whole series always makes me smile–Mma Ramotswe remains one of the most hilarious main characters in any cozy mystery I’ve ever read. The crimes she comes up against are usually low-key, usually secondary to the backdrop of Botswana, and often solved by accident as much as design.

Precious Ramotswe’s commentary on Botswanan life is simply brilliant, but almost even more amusing is her sidekick, Grace Makutsi, who bumbles through her role as secretary-promoted-to-assistant-detective, and the interaction between the characters never fails to give me laugh-out-loud moments.

This whole series has to be the most feel-good series ever, and now I’m rediscovering it as an audio production of the radio series; it’s as heart-warming as a bright bunch of flowers on a dull day, a bowl of hot soup when you’re sick; a hot bubble bath when it’s snowing outside…I love it, love it, love it!

What could be more unexpected than for a New Jersey widow in her sixties to become a CIA agent? Especially during the Cold War era?

Perhaps it is this unexpected nature of the circumstances that helps this incurable optimist to turn every near disaster into a triumph of good over evil. I love Mrs. P.’s indomitable spirit and seeing all the far-flung places her adventures take her through her eyes. Having lived through the 1960’s, I can relate to the authentic attitudes of the time.

Elmore Leonard knew the vagaries of the movie business back to front, and he serves them up on a platter of delicious satire in this story about an East Coast loan shark, Chili Palmer, who comes to Los Angeles chasing a deadbeat debtor and winds up in his own fractured fairy tale version of the Hollywood dream.

Chili’s an endearing character, street smart with a unique blend of humility and self-confidence. When his collection job throws him into company with a group of movie people, he sees them and their milieu with clear-eyed objectivity.

Talking to an underworld associate, he says, “The movie business, you can do anything you want because there’s nobody in charge.” Leonard’s mastery of dialogue and character, along with his wit and sly affection for the industry he’s skewering combine to make this book a complete delight. 

McKinty takes you right to the streets of a city in chaos. An excellent, edgy, police procedural with a great sense of place––and McKinty doesn’t spare the language or violence in DS Sean Duffy’s first appearance.

In 1981 Belfast, it seems a serial killer is targeting homosexuals––an anomaly in Ulster during the troubles when most murders are sectarian. Just as Duffy starts to doubt this angle, a young woman, ex-wife of a hunger striker, commits suicide, or was she murdered––and was she connected somehow to the killings?

We’re immediately caught up in Duffy’s dysfunctional world, he’s a Catholic detective in the predominantly Protestant RUC. A hard drinker, too smart for his own good, but with a strong moral compass. 

No book has had a bigger influence on me as a person or a writer than this one. I suppose a lot of hoopy froods could say the same. It’s an adventure on a galactic scale, and yet, at its core, it’s just about a guy who wants to go home and have a cup of tea.

It’s a brilliantly funny satire and full of jokes and moments I’ll never forget. All four books in the series are amazing, and I’ve re-read them countless times. The fifth and final book is a downer worth skipping. 

A multiple POV thriller that kept me up all night. This book awed me with its multiple POVs combined with unreliability and timeline jumps.

As the book shifted from one POV to the other and from one timeline to another, I loved how the author weaved in the backstories of the characters by showing the impact it had on the present timeline.

The writing. The style, the words used, and the way the sentences spun the story is something I still think about, years after I first read this book. It drew me in, lulled me into a false sense of security, then sprung a small nugget of what really happened. A brilliant tactic.

The Snow Child depicts a maybe real, maybe imaginary little girl bringing joy to a childless, homesteading couple in 1920s Alaska.

In this bestselling debut novel, released in 2016, a couple that yearns for a child of their own is visited by a nymph who appears and disappears in the snow drifts on their homestead. In her novel, Eowyn Ivy manages to sustain the reader’s belief that this girl could in fact be real, without directly saying one way or the other. 
Why do this in an essentially realist portrayal of hardscrabble life in rural Alaska? Again, I see it as a way to get past the character’s rational mind and open both the character and readers’ hearts to the ineffable.

Here, Mabel, the main character says it better. “You did not have to understand miracles to believe in them, and in fact, Mabel had come to suspect the opposite.… show more.

Harriet Vane, a thinly disguised Sayers (who it seemed had fallen in love with her fictional detective, Lord Peter Wimsey), gets her own book where she goes back to Oxford to the women’s college she graduated from, to help uncover a mystery.

There is a delight in the fact that the female can be as deadly as the male, offering up a new sort of equality. This became a lovely television series starring Harriet Walter, but the book is rich and wonderful and sprinkled with untranslated Greek. You feel smarter, just holding it; it made me really wish I’d tried harder to qualify for a Rhodes scholarship back in the day.