100 books like Valiant

With a cover like a Halloween fever dream, I expected a lot of otherworldly gothic creepiness, which this book delivered. What I didn’t expect was Gideon, an unforgettable character whose unapologetic frankness is like a shot of whisky in what could otherwise be an overwrought space opera. It’s a bit of stretch to call this historical fantasy, but I love that the world-building implies a complex backstory both for the characters and their world. Which sets up a wonderfully weird juxtaposition of ancient and modern.  Set in a feudal world, inhabited by undead necromancer lieges and their cavalier servants, I kept thinking, “Did Gideon just say that *&^$ to her master?” Yes, she did. And I was there for every word.

I loved the magical girl reminiscent transformations in this book mixed with a dark story. I’ve always had a fondness for the genre, and this book gave me a mix of Shugo Chara and Madoka Magica vibes. As a demisexual, I also really felt seen from all of the asexual spectrum representation in the main cast. I am a character first writer, so I loved the large cast and how insanely compelling each character and their backstory was. Every personality is so unique it bursts off the page, which is what really drew me into this book and made it my favorite novel of all time. The aesthetics also really help, since the flashier the magic the better in my opinion.

The medieval fantasy in this book was juxtaposed with band culture for the bard MC early in the book, which gave me a few laughs. I love all of the characters, but even more, I love that I didn’t like them all at first. One character came across too cheery while another was too stuck up, but I ended up loving them all by the end. The world is one I would adore stepping into for a week to live in, so it’s a very good escapist read. The MC’s directive is so simple, since he’s just trying to get into a bard group and prove his family wrong. The fact the scenario twists into so much more but remains so wholesome reminded me of the anime Spice and Wolf.

Evermore has an anime-level mystical other world with copious drama and shenanigans afoot. There are strained friendships, romance, death-defying endeavors, and more. Who doesn’t love a good immortal chasing after his love through different lifetimes? I appreciate that the MC isn’t a damsel in distress even with the romance-heavy lean of the book. There’s plenty of mystery and action with the MC’s ability to see spirits and auras as she tries to discern the strange things happening around her. I have so much love for themes of life and death. I can see parallels between this book and the anime The Ancient Magus Bride. Both involve not-so-distant other worlds and a protagonist who has shut herself away for her gifts falling in love with an immortal.

Magic is real. To wield it requires sacrifice.

Its allegiance shifts and changes over time. To hold it, Houses of Magic put on an epic tournament at every Turning, where their best and brightest act as champions in battle. But what the champions don’t know, because their elders have never taught them, is that the magic itself draws from a dark source, and that source is crumbling.

Powerful magician Sydney has emerged from The House of Shadows to fight for a sponsor who wishes to establish his own house. But Sydney has first-hand experience with the darkness.

And she doesn’t want to help restore the establishment. She wants to burn it to the ground.

A fast-moving, gritty, wholly satisfying read. 

This is a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast.

I loved that the book was from the beast’s point of view, and I loved seeing this arrogant New York high schooler undergo a transformation of both appearance and soul. The modern setting is so fun. The POV is so fun.

This is a quick, delightful read, and one I’m proud to have on my shelf. (There’s also a movie adaptation, if you’re interested.)

Supernatural Thrillers: Every Dead Thing by John Connolly is the first novel in Connolly’s Charlie Parker series (it contains Parker’s origin story). If you like your thrillers with a blood-curdling slice of the supernatural, run, don’t walk, to the nearest bookstore and pick up this novel. Haunted by his dead wife and daughter, Parker is an ex-cop turned private detective. And the cases Parker works—Good Lord!—best sleep with the lights on. Though John Connolly’s an Irish lad, his Parker novels take place along the East Coast (Parker lives in Portland, Maine). You’ll realize how literary and poetic Connolly’s prose is as the hairs on the back of your neck begin to rise and you refuse to investigate that sound you just heard coming from the basement.

Before reading this book, I had no idea city-based fantasy novels could draw me in as powerfully as stories with more “traditional” fantasy settings. But Mr. Older’s depiction of Brooklyn as a living, breathing landscape made me a new believer in urban magic. And the main character Sierra’s shadowshaping feels like its own form of beautiful, youthful rebellion. Art can save us, if only we breathe our power into it. I stop and stare at most graffiti murals now, waiting for them to move a little.

This wonderful Asian fantasy (the first of a duology) is about a young woman who has the rare ability to control flying wolf-like creatures. This ability plunges her into the middle of political intrigue as forces push her to weaponize this ability and use the beasts as battle mounts. The most unique thing about the book is how it questions the ethics of humans using animals for their purposes. Most fantasies unquestioningly use animal mounts as weapons/vehicles or at most use an animal’s death to trigger a cheap emotional response. This book puts the ethics of using magnificent creatures for human concerns at its very heart. It demonstrates a respect for the natural world that seems consistent with Shinto teaching and that I find too rare in fantasy.

Not usually considered a Hollywood novella per se, Bellow’s “small grey masterpiece” (V.S. Pritchett) tracks failed actor Tommy Wilhelm on a dark Manhattan day when his luck and his money run out.

This book is at once a tender portrait of failure and a searing indictment of the false promises America makes to the gullible. Along the way, Tommy recalls his one and only screen role—as a Hollywood extra, he briefly appeared barelegged in a kilt, pretending to blow bagpipes—just one more humiliation in a string of let-downs. By day’s end, Tommy goes face to face with humanity in a subway station and spirals toward “the heart’s ultimate need”—tears.