The best (mostly) fiction books about reinventing yourself (that are not self-help)

Now, this is a makeover. Minor Nigerian god Shigidi is ugly, low-status, and neglected, but he can’t quit his job: that’s just not an option when you’re a god. Unless a powerful succubus needs a sidekick to pull off an interdimensional heist.

This book was a ride, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Sort of crime-spree-meets-spiritual-reckoning, Shigidi has romance, action, and that all-important (to me) opportunity to find out who exactly you can be when you drop all the pre-conditions. I’m hoping for a sequel.

Imagine waking up to discover you’ve become the City of New York. And meeting the avatar of São Paulo walking around trying to be a mentor. As a New Yorker, I’m all for it, and I was hooked right from the start of this urban fantasy. Aliens are trying to eat the cities of Earth, but the cities fight back by choosing champions from among their populations.

New York, being New York, has six—one for the City as a whole and one for each borough because we do things right here. I got such a kick out of every borough’s particular personality and approach to being part of the whole, when just the other day, these were all ordinary people pursuing their own aims. Sudden, magical, consequential reinvention. Love it.

Is it weird that a space opera is one of my all-time comfort reads? Because it is. The first book of the Ancillary series, it’s got aliens, intergalactic war, an all-powerful ruler whose clones reach into every corner of the system, and one lonely remnant of a ship who reinvents herself to survive and ultimately fulfill her last order.

When everything is turbulent, I like to re-read Ancillary Justice and imagine I have one-tenth of protagonist Breq’s competence in a pinch. 

I had to include Alan Furst, the absolute master of historical fiction of the pre-WWII era. The first book of Furst’s Night Soldiers Series, this book introduced me to a new sort of spy thriller: instead of secret agents, these are ordinary people swept up in history.

I do love a makeover, but this is a life-and-death self-reinvention. When Khristo is targeted by the local fascist gang in 1934 Bulgaria, it’s time to run. When his first reinvention becomes dangerous, he reinvents himself again. And again. And finds love on the way. I was inspired at every turn by Khristo’s transformations without ever losing his core decency. The historical detail is so vivid I felt like I was right there with Khristo, whether he was in Moscow, Spain, or Paris. 

Nonfiction! Yes—but this is no self-help/how-to. Maria Konnikova (and some family members) suffered some personal and professional setbacks: the type of thing that happens to most of us. Bad luck. She decided to make a study of how luck impacts our success and happiness. How? By becoming a serious poker player. I loved her willingness to try something new in the face of a lot of skepticism and disapproval (especially from her beloved grandmother!).

I especially connected to her systematic approach to getting better and to her chagrin when she gets taken advantage of as the “new fish” at the poker table. I find luck a fascinating subject. Deliberately setting out to harness luck in the service of self-transformation? Yes, please. This one lives on the nightstand.