The best books about suicide

A seemingly perfect society and its ugly underbelly always make for a compelling read. But this one goes a step beyond with compassion, culture-clash, inclusivity, sheer storytelling genius, and characters I was rooting hard for through every page. Luckily, since I couldn't get enough, there are quite a few sequels.

McDermott writes about Irish-American people, and this novel is about nuns in Brooklyn who help out a young widow and her little daughter after the suicide of her husband.

I was a nun for eleven years, so loved the realistic portrayal of the nuns with all their human foibles and virtues! 

The young girl becomes the central character as she grows up helping the sisters in their work with the poor, even deciding she might like to be a nun herself until she has a disastrous encounter on a train. Beautifully written with humor and compassion. 

This book although released back in 1999 it is still relevant today. The author speaks openly and honestly about the different emotions including guilt and loneliness which really resonated with me. The book is full of stories of pain and heartache that I could relate to as well as courage and inspiration. This book is honest and felt like a group therapy session that I didn’t want to leave at times. This book doesn’t hide the brutality of suicide, the stigma, the tragedy, and most of all the suffering and pain of those left behind. 

Lark Chadwick is my kind of protagonist – gutsy, smart, and burdened with a past that won’t let go.

When the aunt who raised her dies, Chadwick refuses to believe that suicide was the cause. Digging into the circumstances surrounding one death she discovers the truth about the deaths of her parents who were killed in an accident that only she survived.

A fledgling journalist, Chadwick talks herself into a job with the local paper, a first step in the many adventures that follow her in an exciting series that takes her all the way to the White House. Author John DeDakis, a former veteran CNN journalist, infuses the award-winning series with real-life drama and authenticity.

Sylvia Path (1932-1963) was only thirty when she committed suicide in London.

An American girl, alumna of Smith College, gifted and tortured from the start, she became most famous, after her death, for her novel The Bell Jar and Ariel, her posthumous book of lyrics that contains the much anthologized poems “Daddy” and “Lady Lazarus.”

She married the British poet Ted Hughes and bore two children. She and Hughes divorced. Much of her lived life is the material for her wrenching poems.

She was sanctified by the women’s movement, but she was no saint. Her legacy is her work.

And Heather Clark’s massive biography is a marvel of research, energy, sympathy, and literary analysis.

This book gripped me as I read it in French. While it’s a story of a lonely and despairing man coming apart at the seams and ending up killing himself, it also feels like a commentary on what was happening to France at that time in 1935. It’s a heavy, dark book, but I believe one of the greatest French novels ever written.

Gayle Brandeis’s intimate memoir of wrestling with her mother’s suicide following a long mental illness kept me company in the ways it mirrored my own experience. It is sometimes easier to mourn a stranger’s pain, as you edge towards your own grief. Brandeis’s reading through her mother’s letters, with their paranoid delusions and grandiose aspirations, “passionate and creatively punctuated,” rang true to my father’s crazy literary outpourings. Her experiences of entering her mother’s home to witness the evidence of her last activities, to the almost physical trauma of learning the stark details of her mother’s suicide method, comforted me in their familiarity. The suicide of a mentally ill parent leaves a lot of guilt and confusion in its wake. Anger and resentment aren’t what one “should” feel after a death of a parent, but Brandeis doesn’t sugarcoat the complex mess of emotions that needs to be untangled. 

This isn’t a zombie book. It’s a book about isolation, depression, rage, and escapism. This is the book I continue to come back to and is always the first one I recommend for someone looking for a new book to read. There’s a slow ramping of violence in this book, married perfectly to the main character’s evolution – resulting in some truly bleak scenes.

Fifteen-year-old Leigh is struggling to deal with the mental illness of her mother, that ultimately led to her suicide. A talented artist, Leigh deals with her sorrow by keeping away from others, including her best friend, Axel. Yes, this starts out as a sad story about loss, but the emotional journey Leigh embarks on is full of the stunning culture of Taiwan as she gains a deeper understanding of herself and her mother’s life. Not only is the diction wonderful in this gorgeously written book, but the symbolism behind the red bird who comes to Leigh repeatedly, whom she believes is her mother, is mystically poignant. When I finished this book, I returned from a world far from Dallas and was left with a true feeling of hope.

This book is another great book for people with anxiety. The desire for social acceptance can be very anxiety-provoking for many people. This can lead to a pattern of self-denial and people-pleasing behaviors. This book teaches how to have healthy boundaries while still having positive relationships, thereby reducing anxiety. This book is very well-written, simple, easy to follow, and highly recommended by therapists and counselors.

This is a lesser-known book, and I wish more teens had it in their library. There is no shirking behind any kind of veil or safety as Vincent weaves his way through his suicidal ideations, finds friendships, and navigates his health back to safety. This is a quiet novel that’s brutally honest about how one continues on when they’re not sure why they should.

Bonus for animal lovers as Vincent spends a lot of time at the local animal shelter.

This collection features a range of stories, a range of time and places, written by many of the best true-crime writers. Goodman, himself a master storyteller, has pulled together a wide sampling of all manner of crimes stories, all well-told. Goodman wisely included his own likely solution to one of my favorite unsolved crimes, the Liverpool case of Julia Wallace, which has fascinated novelists from Raymond Chandler to Dorothy L. Sayers and P.D. James.

In Pieces is the first of a two-book series. The romance develops in this book while subplots thicken. I was quickly drawn to the characters and early American setting. I felt immersed in the ambience of the Boston waterfront during the Federalist years. Themes of redemption, forgiveness and understanding weave through the novel and affect more than the hero and heroine. For example, the hero’s family grapples with his growing interest in Catholicism. As the love story reaches resolution, another subplot deepens: a need for American spies to help protect the young country. I ended the book feeling as though the characters had become friends. In Pieces is subtitled Molly Chase Book 1 and fits the Christian historical fiction genre as well as Catholic historical romance.

The concept for this book had me intrigued from the moment I saw the front cover. James Chiltern sends a message to all 158 contacts on his phone, telling them he plans to end his life in the morning. Then he switches his phone to flight mode and sets off on an overnight train journey. While I have had dark times and moments where I was close to the edge throughout my life, I’ve never reached the point where I had actually made a plan to end things. So to read a story where the main character has made that heart-wrenching decision and to see the differing perspectives of all the people in his life waking up to that message was both heart-breaking and riveting.

David Kelly was the UK's foremost weapons expert, exposed as a mole after revealing to a journalist that he had ‘deep concerns’ about the British government’s dossier on Iraq’s WMDs. An inquiry into his death concluded that Kelly was so unnerved by a grilling of lowly MPs that he decided to end his life. But the manner and events surrounding Kelly raise more questions, from the painful and amateurish method of suicide to the ‘dark actors’ seen lurking in the woods prior to his death. After reading about his long and distinguished career, I found it difficult to believe the official story, and reading Baker’s book, I found my original suspicions were confirmed. Many who knew him did not believe Kelly killed himself, and the author builds a detailed and impressive case for the unpalatable alternative.

Why are more of Kerstin’s rom-com novels not available in English? That’s what I want to know.

This really is hilarious from start to finish, as we follow the hapless adventures of romance writer Gerri. While she tries to cope with losing her job, feeling forever single and even suicidal, her mother, father, and siblings only want to know when is she going to meet someone, preferably a professor, and settle down.

It’s the bizarre family dinners that capture the perfect madness that get-togethers with your parents and grown-up siblings can produce. And it takes an extremely talented writer to create an attempted (maybe that should be interrupted) suicide scene that is at once truly touching and hilarious.

A joyful read, particularly if, like me, you have some German relatives!

When I was pitching my book, I used this book as a comp: it’s like This Song Will Save Your Life, but at raves! There are definitely some similarities (credit to Leila Sales: hers came first). They both feature geeky girls, and Sales’ Elise Dembowski is one of the truest awkward-teen first-person voices I’ve ever read. They’re both set against the backdrop of underground music scenes, and the way Sales describes indie dance parties made me feel like I was back in the basement of NYC’s Lit trying to look cool while bopping around awkwardly to Joy Division. Both of our protagonists have weird relationships with older guys, and they both learn lessons that suck at the time but make them stronger. So is there room in the world for two girl-DJ books? Yes! Check out This Song Will Save Your Life and you’ll see exactly why. 

I was drawn to this book by the title and the super-intriguing cover.

Something about the linen’s organic nature mixed with the haphazard cross-stitching spoke to me.

Warga captures the depths of depression with her writing to the point where I could feel the sadness and internal struggle of Aysel, the book’s sixteen-year-old main character.

How vividly wonderful is this line: … feels like my skin is too thin, like everyone can see right inside me, can see my empty and dark insides.

The concept of Aysel creating a suicide pact with Roman really hit home. I’ve experienced multiple deaths by suicide, including two school friends who went through with their pact.

This story helped shed light on what clinical depression looks like from the inside, which can be vastly different and seemingly in conflict with the seemingly “I’m okay” exterior.

Have you ever traveled somewhere, and something doesn’t feel right? There is a world of travelers, nomads, and homeless who live lives none of us can explain or understand. Their world includes strange disappearances or accidents, and authorities who ignore or hide the truth. If you start digging for answers, it might make some people uncomfortable. This is a riveting yarn of a sister who refuses to just let it go and move on with her life. Her fierce determination for answers leads her into her own fight for survival. A can’t put it down thrill ride.

I relate to the characters in Tease so much. Hutton is a billionaire with social anxiety. People think he’s aloof, but in reality, he’s never sure what to say. As someone with mild social anxiety myself, I loved seeing my own experiences reflected in his struggles. Not to mention, he’s a sweet, good-hearted man. 

Felicity is the kind of heroine you can’t help but like. She’s a bit of a hot mess, but she’s endearing and tries really hard. She also has a habit of stress-cutting her hair. As someone who currently has bangs because I got stressed out earlier in the year and took a pair of scissors to my hair (never a good idea!), I felt both seen and called out by this character trait.