Fans pick 100 books like Walking Practice

This is my most recent “can’t look away” read. The titular Piglet hits rock bottom and keeps digging after her idea of a perfect life with her fiancé Kit goes up in flames. Lottie Hazell really knows how to do a set piece with constant escalating tension. Every food-related meltdown in Piglet proved more anxiety-inducing than the last, particularly a scene of Piglet frantically trying to bake a croquembouche on the day of her disastrous wedding.

I always appreciate a book that refuses to give the reader breathing room and puts you in the scene with its characters. Piglet’s pages and pages of bad decisions–and the empathy Hazell’s narrative still manages to weave in for her characters–make this a gripping, satisfying read.

This novel takes an absurd premise (everyone magically receives a string whose length reflects how long they will live) and spins it into a profound thought experiment. I loved it for its complete indifference to the scientific credibility that I tried to build into my novel, which is in part about knowing (if you want) exactly how long you have to live.

I found it liberating to learn that, as a writer, I could have it both ways: be extremely thoughtful and nuanced about the consequences of your premise while being completely arbitrary and absurdist about the premise itself. I don’t have that kind of nerve, so I fell back on mere science for my premise, but I love Erlich’s gall. 

I was surprised I loved Just for the Summer so much. I’d never read Abby Jimenez before, but I was delightfully surprised. How could you not love that both Justin and Emma have a love curse hanging over their heads? The person they date goes on to find their one true love. So why not date each other and break the curse? The premise is not only original, but the situations she brings to this are hilarious. Like the Toilet King billboard. I now need a Toilet King T-shirt.

The characters are charming, loving people—people I wanted to see have their happily ever after. The secondary characters are just as lovable and realistic. I loved this book, though, because of the realism of their predicaments. They lived through problems that weren’t sugar-coated.

I absolutely loved this book. Michael Crummy is an incredibly clear writer and tells an incredibly clear and compelling story about life in a Newfoundland outport (Mockbeggar) in the 1800s, focusing on a sibling rivalry between merchants, the widow Caine, and her brother Abel Strapp.

Life there is hasty, brutish, and short. The descriptions of daily life, including violence, made everyone in our book club squirm. But what I liked most was that he takes the reader right to Mockbeggar (and its neighbour, Nonsuch) - within a page or two, you feel like you are inside a church in Mockbeggar. From that point on, you never leave the outport and its way of life.

What kind of list would this be about massive universes without mentioning the Cosmere? Brandon Sanderson is the undisputed king of worldbuilding because he is so meticulously obsessed with the details, and is so good at juggling all of them in a way that interweaves like a tapestry of crossing stories.

The fact that this story holds dozens of nods to characters from his other stories that exist within the same universe as the worlds on which this book takes place while not being confusing to someone unfamiliar with all that the Cosmere has to offer is why I want to recommend this book in particular, though.

I will freely admit that I am not a Cosmere aficionado. The task of trying to keep up on everything that Sanderson writes is entirely too daunting for me (how does the man write so much, so well, and so fast?!!). But I… show more.

This is my favorite book by my favorite author. Beware, this is seriously more addictive fiction than I’ve ever read before—I don’t know anyone who reads this one who hasn’t plowed through the rest of Goddard’s list and then reread them all.

I loved the characters in this book and loved the premise—that the world (like ours, but different) has gone through a cataclysmic event, and now the work is to make it better than it ever was before. Fundamentally, it is a book about friendship and goodness. This and the rest of Goddard’s books will have you believe that we can create a better world together. (The first pages are slow, but stay with them, and you will have dozens of hours of delight as you move through the whole set of her books.)

The book’s opening scene caught me off-guard. An older lady dies from out-of-season Alaskan cold. Meanwhile, the heroine, Darcie Phillips, contends with the demands of her new job as Fairbanks’ Emergency Operations Center director.

Among her headaches are a rejected candidate for that position, a protest group demanding she shut down a newly installed oil pipeline, and insecurities regarding her qualifications for her position. Little does Darcie suspect the old lady’s death heralds ecological disaster if she fails to meet the demands of an unknown terrorist before the outside temperature reaches 26 degrees below zero.

The author’s use of Alaskan localisms, along with each chapter heading’s time and temperature measurements, intensifies the suspense; however, little character description and minimal display of the protagonist’s Internet abilities dampens her authenticity as a cyber expert.

I was drawn to this book by the cover. Set in New York, famous erotica writer Eva Mercy is a single mom with a depilating auto-immune disease. Eva’s experiences of the writing life as a Black woman and how she managed her health drew me to her.

However, the unexpected connection between Eva and Shane, the award-winning literary writer she reunites with during a literary event, was my favorite part of this book. I loved how each writer’s trauma-informed the stories they told. I found myself encouraged to write about my own traumas in my stories. But what I loved the most about this book is how the sensual scenes between Eva and Shane were more about connection than sex.

I was inspired by Eva’s resoluteness in making a life for herself and being the mother she never had for herself and her daughter.

Again, fiction that is based on facts–but in this novel, the facts take over and engulf the reader in an apocalyptic tornado.

The book has an obsessive quality. Most of it deals with the life of the legendary mathematician John von Neumann, known as the “father of the computer,” who switched from pure mathematics to nuclear destruction, artificial life, and various other games.

Labatut’s admirably well-researched saga explores the inhuman face of science and the demonic aspects of progress “for which there is no cure” (copyright John von Neumann). A technological maelstrom to give Edgar Allan Poe the creeps, the book shows that romantic science has come a long way since Dr. Frankenstein. 

Janowitz’s romp of a story centers on twelve-year-old Tristan, who loves reading cookbooks and making desserts. Life is sweet—until Tristan’s parents announce they’re leaving New York City and moving to the middle of nowhere. When he learns there are zero bakeries in his new town, Tristan pledges to bring back the famous Petersville chocolate cream doughnut, which sets him on an unexpected and entertaining adventure. He learns how to craft a business plan, buy ingredients in bulk, and manage demanding customers.

Spoiler alert number one: l like that even though Tristan nails the renowned doughnut, he puts his own delicious spin on things. Spoiler alert number two: this book will make you very hungry. Prepare accordingly.