Here are 85 books that Wonderlands fans have personally recommended if you like
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I believe in the power of personal narratives and the memoir genre as tools to foster healing and forgiveness. As a licensed professional counselor with a doctorate in adult education, I devoted years toward better understanding the fractured relationship I had with my mother, eventually uncovering the source of her pain and trauma. My mother’s mental health and addiction issues were muddied by the shame she carried for years, as a terrified secret keeper, full of self-loathing. Although I was often the target of her anger, I found a pathway to compassion that mended my heart and provided an example of intergenerational healing for my own daughter.
Melissa Febos’ book Body Work provides encouragement to writers who are considering the memoir genre by highlighting the importance of storytelling as central to human experience.
Memoir writing is like magic; unique in its ability to shine a light on stories of survival, perseverance, and resilience. Febos’ book beautifully portrays the power of memoir as a tool to prompt growth, pulling back façades in ways that are both personally empowering and enriching for readers and writers alike.
“We are telling the stories that no one else can tell, and we are giving this proof of our survival to each other.” (p. 27)
Memoir meets craft master class in this “daring, honest, psychologically insightful” exploration of how we think and write about intimate experiences—“a must read for anybody shoving a pen across paper or staring into a screen or a past" (Mary Karr)
In this bold and exhilarating mix of memoir and master class, Melissa Febos tackles the emotional, psychological, and physical work of writing intimately while offering an utterly fresh examination of the storyteller’s life and the questions which run through it.
How might we go about capturing on the page the relationships that have formed us? How…
I grew up in the Scottish countryside, reading passionately. When adults asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer came from my latest book: a nun, an outlaw, a queen, or an explorer. Not until I was in my twenties did I realise that I wanted to be the person behind the covers of a book, not between them. My early stories, written between waitressing shifts, were bafflingly bad. Gradually I began to understand that the fiction I loved was driven by a hidden machinery. I now teach at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and have been lucky enough to explore this idea with many talented students.
Salesses reminds us that “craft is a set of expectations,” and I love that he makes me question those expectations in fruitful ways. Jane Eyre does get to marry Rochester but at some cost. Salesses writes with warmth and wit about the western canon and about other literary traditions. I finished the book with a terrific reading list and new thoughts about my own writing and reading.
This national bestseller is "a significant contribution to discussions of the art of fiction and a necessary challenge to received views about whose stories are told, how they are told and for whom they are intended" (Laila Lalami, The New York Times Book Review).
The traditional writing workshop was established with white male writers in mind; what we call craft is informed by their cultural values. In this bold and original examination of elements of writing—including plot, character, conflict, structure, and believability—and aspects of workshop—including the silenced writer and the imagined reader—Matthew Salesses asks questions to invigorate these familiar concepts.…
I grew up in the Scottish countryside, reading passionately. When adults asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer came from my latest book: a nun, an outlaw, a queen, or an explorer. Not until I was in my twenties did I realise that I wanted to be the person behind the covers of a book, not between them. My early stories, written between waitressing shifts, were bafflingly bad. Gradually I began to understand that the fiction I loved was driven by a hidden machinery. I now teach at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and have been lucky enough to explore this idea with many talented students.
Le Guin is a star in fiction’s firmament but in this book she’s also a wonderfully modest practitioner of the art of writing. She discusses the sound of your prose, naming characters, repetition, and point of view. I found her chapter on crowding and leaping especially helpful. Crowding is when you follow Keats’ advice to load every rift with ore; leaping is when you skillfully leave things out—two invaluable skills in fiction, and in life.
From the celebrated Ursula K. Le Guin, "a writer of enormous intelligence and wit, a master storyteller" (Boston Globe), the revised and updated edition of her classic guide to the essentials of a writer's craft.
Completely revised and rewritten to address modern challenges and opportunities, this handbook is a short, deceptively simple guide to the craft of writing.
Le Guin lays out ten chapters that address the most fundamental components of narrative, from the sound of language to sentence construction to point of view. Each chapter combines illustrative examples from the global canon with Le Guin’s own witty commentary and…
The Truth About Unringing Phones
by
Lara Lillibridge,
When Lara was four years old, her father moved from Rochester, New York, to Anchorage, Alaska, a distance of over 4,000 miles. She spent her childhood chasing after him, flying a quarter of the way around the world to tug at the hem of his jacket.
I grew up in the Scottish countryside, reading passionately. When adults asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer came from my latest book: a nun, an outlaw, a queen, or an explorer. Not until I was in my twenties did I realise that I wanted to be the person behind the covers of a book, not between them. My early stories, written between waitressing shifts, were bafflingly bad. Gradually I began to understand that the fiction I loved was driven by a hidden machinery. I now teach at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and have been lucky enough to explore this idea with many talented students.
Peter Turchi is an amazing guide to writing which is to say he is an amazing guide to reading. This book explores fiction in terms of power dynamics, imagery, digressions—think Tristram Shandy—and story-telling, (among other topics). Turchi argues passionately for the pleasures of close reading. I especially love his chapter on characters who tell stories—why do they tell them, what if we want them to shut up?
In (Don't) Stop Me If You've Heard This Before, Peter Turchi combines personal narrative and close reading of a wide range of stories and novels to reveal how writers create the fiction that matters to us. Building on his much-loved Maps of the Imagination: The Writer as Cartographer, Turchi leads readers and writers to an understanding of how the intricate mechanics of storytelling-including shifts in characters' authority, the subtle manipulation of images, careful attention to point of view, the strategic release of information, and even digressing from the (apparent) story-can create powerful effects.
Using examples from Dickens, Chekhov, and Salinger,…
One of the gifts of the horror genre is that the stories use metaphor to examine human behaviors that defy understanding. My favorite horror novels, novellas, and short stories can be read again and again. While my Feral graphic novel series is for middle school readers, I wanted to provide grey areas, perhaps more than the editor always liked! I wanted the adventure, the scares, the questions, the uncertainty that would let the small town of Feral take on a larger-than-life presence for a reader and encourage revisiting it whenever the mood strikes. It's almost pleasant, the rhythm, the anticipation. A little unnerving too.
This is the only graphic novel/comic book on my list and it goes above and beyond in art and story.
I have enjoyed reading the Harrow County stories many times. I prefer the collected edition where you can take your time and read comic issues 1-16 of Darkhorse Comics Harrow County. The artwork pulls you in, and the story is filled with zippy turns and good dialogue.
It pulls from many of the books I've mentioned in building an early American horror story that heads off in multiple directions. I can smell the grass and trees, hear the click-clack of the horse-pulled carts, and taste autumn in the air while reading these books.
A topic for another time would be examining the different experiences when reading a graphic novel compared to a novel. The strengths and weaknesses, what exactly the illustrations add, but for a horror fan who has never…
The first half of the highly acclaimed, Eisner-nominated horror fantasy tale, collected in a value-priced omnibus.
Emmy always knew that the woods surrounding her home crawled with ghosts and monsters. But on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, she learns that she is connected to these creatures--and to the land itself--in a way she never imagined.
The things that I am most interested in are books that are deliciously fun to read and books that pick you up out of your comfortable chair and drag you across a fantastic landscape. What does that require? Three Ws for starters. Wit: both on the part of the characters and the author—I like smart characters, biting banter, and clever turns of phrase and story. Weird: in the sense of the unusual and mysterious—good world-building coupled with mysteries meant to be unraveled by the reader as much as by the characters. Wild: fast-paced action filled with sudden turns and unexpected drops and conversations that are three parts well-written words and two parts fencing without a blade.
Nina is an absolute master of making things weird in ways that feel utterly natural to the world she’s writing. This starts on page one with ghosts hassling a school janitor about the impending death of two more students, and it never gets one bit less strange.
This is a book about living as an outcast, toxic family, homecoming, found family, and how sudden and unexpected love can be. On the wild side, it’s also about shapechangers, spellcasters of several varieties, ghosts, spirits, the Walking Dead, flying cars, and so much more. Every page is packed with magic, meaning, and the gentle wit that marks all of Nina’s work. If you haven’t read anything of hers, you’re missing out on one of the subtler masters of the genre, and I would recommend this as a great place to start.
Tom Renfield, a drifter possessed of extraordinary powers, and Laura Bolte, the equally gifted daughter of an ancient family, are wed amid a supernatural tumult that threatens the thread that binds the bones. Original.
I spent all my teenage years daydreaming about being magical (cue a handful of sparkling glitter). Even as an adult, those daydreams haven’t stopped. Magic promises the ability to change the story. I revisit those teen years when I can because ultimately, what each of these stories of magic offer is a coming-of-age story. The struggle of being pulled between two different worlds has always felt familiar to me, whether those worlds are literally different worlds (magical vs non-magical) or figurative (childhood vs adulthood). I’ve felt some version of that struggle my whole life, and I think I always will, which is why these stories will always feel like home.
Suze Simon might be one of my favorite characters of all time.
She’s a mediator (which means she speaks to the dead, and sometimes kicks their butts too). She grew up in New York, which made her tough and edgy. Our story starts when her mom remarries and they move to sunny California to live with Suze’s new stepdad and step-brothers (who are all varying degrees of hilarious, annoying, and down right adorable). Suze has to figure out how to navigate going from life as an only child to life as one of four kids kind of overnight.
I love how Meg Cabot plays with what it’s like to be the new kid, particularly the new kid with a BIG secret.
Shadowland is the first book in the thrilling, romantic Mediator series, from the New York Times bestselling author of the Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot.
Suze is a mediator—a liaison between the living and the dead. In other words, she sees dead people. And they won't leave her alone until she helps them resolve their unfinished business with the living.
But Jesse, the hot ghost haunting her bedroom, doesn't seem to need her help. Which is a relief, because Suze has just moved to sunny California and plans to start fresh, with trips to the mall instead of the cemetery, and…
I went to university wanting to become a Roman specialist, but ended up going backwards in time until I landed with a bump on the hard flints of the Palaeolithic (Old Stone Age). I research aspects of the behaviour of the Pleistocene (Ice Age) indigenous Europeans – the Neanderthals – and the origins and evolution of our own species, Homo sapiens. I undertake fieldwork across Europe, and I’m particularly interested in the origins and early development of art – both on portable objects and cave walls – and the long-term evolution of our treatment of the dead. My scientific love is how we can try to get inside the mind of our most remote ancestors.
As a specialist in the funerary practices of our earliest ancestors, I avidly awaited the publication of Finkel’s latest, this time deploying his considerable scholarship to the question of how Sumerians, Assyrians, and Babylonians thought of ghosts, spirits, demons, and the underworld.
You don’t need to be a believer to enjoy this intimate picture of the minds of some of the earliest known urbanites and intellectuals at a time when history was just emerging. Out of the fired clay leap stories of underworld journeys such as that of Gilgamesh, of spirits that rise up from below, of exorcisms, omens, and the shadows that lurk in the corners of the house.
To me, this is the most profound statement on early humans at their most imaginative, and if you believe it a useful manual for the prospective ghost hunter.
'It's enthralling stuff, mixing the scholarly with the accessible and placing storytelling right at the heart of the human experience.' - History Revealed
'A fascinating journey' - Yorkshire Post
'The book is a delight to read: each chapter is as academically astute as you would expect from this author, but delivered with a light touch and entertaining writing-style that sweeps the reader through the pages.' - Archaeology Worldwide
In The First Ghosts, he has found the perfect medium for bringing the ancient Mesopotamians back from the dead... Despite the morbid theme and remote cultural milieu, this is not a sombre…
I’ve been a fan of horror books since I was old enough to read, and one of my favorite subgenres has always been the haunted/evil house. Ghosts, demons, unnamed forces – I love it. One of the first books I ever wrote was about a demonic carnival, and I’ve returned to the theme of the haunted/evil house or place many times in both my long and short fiction. Even in real life, I have a fascination for visiting so-called haunted places: abandoned asylums, murder houses, etc. So it’s no surprise that I’d create a list of my favorite evil house books. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.
Although this book is only a few years old, it should be considered a classic in the genre of evil houses. A young woman inherits her mother’s childhood home and decides to convert it into a hotel. Only the place comes with some surprises: ghosts, demons, and an ancient evil that has been locked away in the dark basement. Now that evil is loose again, and the bloodshed and death are just beginning. Author Chantal Noordeloos doesn’t hold back with the frights or the blood, as person after person suffers a horrible death while poor Freya discovers her true destiny is not what she planned, and that the place they call Lucifer Falls might never let her go.
A beautiful house – with a dark and deadly secret.
When Freya inherits her mother's childhood home, she sees it as an opportunity. A chance for a new life with her best friends, as they convert the crumbling mansion into an exclusive hotel.
Instead, they'll be lucky to escape with their lives.
As the first hammers tear through the bricked up entrances, a dark, terrible and ancient evil stirs beneath the house. An evil that has already laid claim to Freya and her companions' souls.
I've been fascinated by cultures shrouded in secrets and mystery since childhood, a fascination that intensified when efforts to unravel the mystery and expose the truth were stonewalled, leading to frustrating dead-ends. I spent decades trying to uncover the truth history obscures through research that included travel to the lands of secrets, mystery, and sometimes outright lies. As a writer, I draw from experience, education, and imagination because I know it's sometimes necessary to wrap truth in fiction to protect it. The books I've selected speak to that reality.
I've had a fascination with small New England towns since childhood, intrigued by how they are portrayed as romantic yet forbidding if not outright hostile to outsiders.
Comes the Blind Fury beautifully satisfies this fascination as John masterfully weaves a tale of secrets small-town residents collude - willingly or not - to hide, uncovering a motivation that proves even one bad apple can destroy a crop and burying your head in the sand does not release you from guilt.
A riveting tale that leaves you guessing who is friend and who is foe right to the dramatic end.
A century ago, a gentle blind girl walked the cliffs of Paradise Point. Then the children came -- taunting, teasing -- until she lost her footing and fell, shrieking her rage to the drowning sea... Now Michelle has come from Boston to live in the big house on Paradise Point. She is excited about her new life, ready to make new friends... until a hand reaches out of the swirling mists -- the hand of blind child. She is asking for friendship... seeking revenge... whispering her name...
