The best books from badass AAPI women with female protagonists who save themselves

I started this book on a plane, continued to read in my seat after the plane landed, and was seriously annoyed at the flight attendant when forced to deplane. This is one of those books with a simple twist on the fantasy genre I wish I’d thought of—a race of beings who subsist on eating books.

Dean’s world building is superb, the protagonist is a badass, and the portrayal of the fractured relationships among characters—especially with her son—complicated and relatable. I finished it (in a chair at the airport) in one sitting, and it was worth it. 

Shockingly, it wasn’t until taking an Asian-American History class in college that I learned about the US internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II. My husband is Japanese-American, and so I now also have family who experienced this shameful time in our history firsthand.

Evergreen is the second book in Naomi Hirahara’s Japantown Mystery series, the first being Clark and Division. It takes place during post-WWII and centers around Aki (a nurse’s aide) and her family's struggles after being released from Manzanar in 1946. This backdrop and its inherent social injustices are adeptly interwoven with a murder mystery happening in Little Tokyo.

In itself, this is a compelling combination of mystery and historical fiction. But it's also a morally significant book, and I'm so glad that Naomi Hirahara was the one to write it. 

As a child, I used to sit in the shoe closet, waiting for it to open up to Narnia. This book brought me back to this feeling of magical longing; only the irresistible hook is secrets hidden in ordinary maps.

It is expertly plotted, magical, and mysterious, and the characters are dynamic and diverse. My tastes usually tend toward dark thrillers, but this one snuck its way into my heart. Important: when you finish, read all the way through the acknowledgments.

This book is so horribly, deliciously meta. 

This was a book I’d meant to read since it was released, but I never did. Then I was asked about the accuracy of Kuang’s depiction of the publishing industry and curiosity made me crack it open. Kuang crafts a slow-moving trainwreck that you can’t turn away from, even though, at times, you desperately wish to. It gave me hives and heart palpitations. Twice, I fell asleep listening to it and had nightmares.

It wasn’t just the industry descriptions that produced such a visceral reaction. Instead, it’s because Kuang nails that emotional author spot in the Venn Diagram between your writing as a piece of your soul and your writing as commerce. Also, she’s only 28. And I’m not bitter about that at all.  

I’m a sucker for any book that dangles codes for me to solve, so that’s what immediately drew me into this novel. In it, the clues are in poetry form, taken from the diary of a murdered patient of the protagonist, Dr. Lydia Weston. But beyond the tantalizing codes, I appreciated that this novel stayed true to the style and attitudes of the late 1800s, something that doesn’t always happen with historical fiction.

Ritu Mukerji is also adept at bringing a sophisticated nuance to her exploration of racism, classism, and sexism. An added bonus is that rather than merely playing one on TV, Mukerji is also an actual physician and clearly knows her medicine without overwhelming a layperson like me.