100 books like Who Censored Roger Rabbit?

Now I’m torn. Agnes Sharp and her housemates are delightful, but a friend of mine tells me that I am Joyce in this book. This series is one of the best I’ve read in the past few years, and this book is one of the best ones in the series.

I’ll gladly join septuagenarians Elizabeth (could she have worked for Scotland Yard?), Ibrahim (a psychologist), Ron (a brawling socialist organizer), and Joyce (gentle and perhaps not as naïve as she seems) at their posh retirement village as they discuss unsolved crimes each Thursday. And I’m definitely there to solve the murder of that local developer. No way the villain will get away from this brilliant gang of sleuths. 

This is the first book of the Phryne Fisher Mysteries.

Phryne is a 1920s flapper who was a nurse in World War 1 and has now started her own detective agency in Melbourne, Australia. It’s a fascinating period and location, and the books bring both to life. I also love the main character: She’s a liberated woman who’s in constant conflict with a society that doesn’t know what to make of her.

It’s hard to beat Scalzi for nailing the execution of a high concept.

Redshirts could have so easily been nothing but a gimmick, but Scalzi really gets into the guts of the horror and humor of being a character written for the sole purpose of dying. I picked up the book with a cynical eye, expecting to hate it, but it drew me in.

Scalzi went so much further with the concept, shined a light on every corner of the idea, that he managed to create a deconstruction and reconstruction of the same trope at the same time. 

I love this book because it perfectly blends the surreal with noir and science fiction and comes together with its own brand of dark humor. While parts of this book are unsettling and strange, there’s a solid throughline of the investigator seeking the truth in a broken world.

Of all the books here, I think this one has the most damaged society, and the main character, Conrad Metcalf, is a match for it. Drugs that make you forget everything and be complacent. Baby heads. Uplifted animals. The book is never afraid to get stranger, but it also tackles some pretty heavy themes. This is a world where asking questions is taboo, and the moral and ethical implications of that shape the entire world in which Metcalf lives.

This was a book that my dad turned me on to. I loved it so much that I immediately raced through the rest of the books in the series. For the past few years, my dad and I have had a ritual of waiting for the next book in the series to come out so that we can talk about it.

The main character is the likable son of a Boston cop who learns how to be a detective over the course of the series. But for me, what really makes this series shine is the setting. Billy is swept up in WW 2 and dispatched to solve mysteries in every corner of the conflict. The series takes you to all sorts of interesting places, like a training facility in Northern Ireland, occupied France behind the German lines, neutral Switzerland, and even the Vatican City. 

It’s a series that brings… show more.

Liking Terry Pratchett is a bit like liking pizza: not terribly remarkable.

Pratchett is a master storyteller who commands not only tropes but the idea behind them with such skill that I can read one of his books and never realize I’m getting the most profound lesson of my life. I could have recommended any of his books, and more to the point, any of his City Watch books, but I single out this particular book for a reason. I’m a humanist, like Pratchett, and this book explores his humanism most effectively.

And it’s also an amazing mystery and incredible comedy. 

No one, and I do mean no one, can craft a sentence like Larry Doyle.

What Usagi Yojimbo is to a katana, Doyle is to the English language, building statements that manage to at once stretch the imagination but be immediately recognizable. Doyle will describe a feeling, an instant, a moment that is universal in words you’ve never seen strung together.

On top of that, this book is a hilarious romp in an alternate history with monsters and mad science, and it manages to pull off one of the most incredible narrative twists I’ve ever seen.

I’m cheating a little with this one since this is technically three books but go with me. Slaves of the Volcano God, Bride of the Slime Monster, and Revenge of the Fluffy Bunnies are some of those series that used to be thick on the ground but now are harder to find.

They’re adventure novels that play with the tropes of B-movies, and not only are they hilarious, but they made a young Justin like B-movies more. Playing with tropes can get exhausting, but when it’s done with genuine love, as it is here, it makes for an airy joy of a series.

Technically, Stephanie Plum isn’t an amateur sleuth because she works as a bounty hunter, but since she was never trained and tends to succeed despite her bungling and ineptitude, I consider her an amateur sleuth. Besides, when you’re sorely in need of a good laugh to release some endorphins, you can’t go wrong spending a few hours with Stephanie and her colorful cohorts. This twenty-seventh outing in the long-running series is one of the best when it comes not only to the humor, but it offers up a well-plotted story, and lots of red herrings. Plus, there’s plenty of Grandma Masur in this one. What more could you ask for?

One of my favorite characters in this middle-grade mystery has always been Chris Theodorakis, the teen boy with an unnamed neurological condition that confines him to a wheelchair and, for the most part, to his house.

Even if he can’t leave home—and even if people often look away from him when he does—Chris plays a key role in solving the mystery at the heart of the book by being a keen observer of everything that passes in front of his window. I love how this novel depicts Chris’s inner world to young readers, including his awareness of how his condition affects others’ perceptions.

More importantly, it shows how much people with disabilities and illnesses still have to offer.