83 books like Isabel Dalhousie Series

I’m not a fan of novels that are paced like greased rockets, as if the author’s afraid you’ll suddenly throw the book across the room, turn on Netflix, and order a pizza. Which is a key reason I love this book. Precious Ramotswe is a “traditionally built” woman who solves crimes in a superbly witty yet unhurried fashion and with deep compassion that stops short of sentimentality.

Her heart (huge) and brain (gently incisive) work in perfect tandem in this book. The plot is simple, which will frustrate readers who prefer intricate puzzles in their crime fiction. But for me, the pleasure lies in leisurely getting to know this wise, ingenious detective and her humble neighborhood in Botswana’s capital city.

If you aren’t ready for Scandinavian Noir, perhaps you’d like a dose of Scandinavian Blanc. Alexander McCall Smith excels at mysteries on the lighter side—which isn’t to say this book isn’t very strange, with its own hints of darkness. Detective Ulf Varg and his colleagues solve crimes that are deemed too weird for the regular police: a possible werewolf menacing a spa, a non-lethal knee-stabbing, and a missing (imaginary) person. AMS’s great gift is imbuing small puzzles with weight and humanity. And if the human cast here isn’t off-kilter enough for you, be reassured…there’s also a dog who can lipread in Swedish.

This was one of the first books I read in which the older women were not just the main characters but were the kick-butt heroes of the day.

I read it while in the middle of a messy draft of my own book and felt inspired to stop diluting the age-related experience of my own main character.

I recommend these short stories for both younger and older readers. In the latter case, they may well be re-reads and if so, they are essential reading in that they lead the reader to reevaluate past aspirations and ambitions. Chekhov’s medical training is immediately apparent in his uncanny ability to dissect both personal and societal issues. 

Though the diagnosis is frequently abrupt and unexpected, the treatment is less obvious. For example, in Gooseberries, written in 1898 as part of a trilogy, the reader is left with no doubt about the diagnosis of the social pretentiousness and even cruelty of the central character, but the possibility that happiness is elusive lingers like the pervasive smell of tobacco on the armchair. These stories are a must-read by the fireside on a rainy night, with the wind howling outside.  

A year or so ago, I read a lot of factual books about India, so I was delighted to find this Golden Age cozy mystery set in a land I was falling in love with through books. This book took me back to a pre-partition India still under British rule, with a realistic glimpse of life under colonialism alongside a hefty–hopefully less realistic–dose of murder and mystery.

I adored how Harini Nagendra created a strong, independent female character who still feels genuine and believable in the time and place in which the book is set–a time when most women were stifled, submissive, and governed by their husbands–and how the observations of colonization feel true to life while remaining both sympathetic and observant to the Indian culture and ways of life.

The setting is vividly portrayed, and the sights and sounds of 1920s India are an absolute delight. The main characters… show more.

A professor of Medical Law and prolific writer, McCall has entertained and delighted many readers in the UK. He is at his most amusing when he dissects the learned community. His depiction of the anatomy of academic pomposity is essential reading for anyone who has ever stood behind a podium. Yet his satire is never bitter or mean-spirited. 

The book listed above is guaranteed to make you laugh, whether you are a student who is required to take certain humanities courses from an indescribably boring professor or a colleague of one. Sadly, you will quickly recognize that your obsession with irregular verbs in another language places you in the same surgical ward. 

Beauty transcends transience and remains a thing of beauty that is a joy forever. The words of the odes of John Keats are familiar, but we forget that the poet was originally apprenticed to a surgeon in 1811. He knew disease and death firsthand, and many of his odes were written while he himself was suffering.

His medical training and recognition of death informed his vivid imagery; his awareness of the brevity of life compelled him to capture beauty in the ephemeral and transcendence in the transient. I boldly propose that Keats’s poetry would resonate with this generation of young readers. They will lean into its musicality and find comfort in the cadence of his verse.   

Written by a clinical psychologist with a keen eye for dissection, Cloud explores the concept of trust and its components, which he presents as understanding, motive, ability, character, and track record.

The loss of trust is a key issue in today’s world, and this author puts the personal and societal implications under his microscope. Cloud’s book will make you think twice before you make a major decision.  

Döblin was a practicing Jewish psychiatrist in Berlin when the Nazi regime drove him and his family into exile in France. Already an established and prolific writer, he was forced into a clandestine existence on the run in France. 

This memoir essentially depicts the anatomy of life in exile, the isolation from community, whether in France or later as one of the many exiles from Nazi Germany living and working as writers for the film industry in Hollywood. Döblin returned after the war to work in the French zone of a shattered Germany in the uniform of a French officer. His commentary is a masterpiece of psychological analysis both at the personal and collective level. 

I love London. I love old mysteries. I love the Art Deco era. I love magic. As a child, my dad was part of the Magic Circle, and my brother and I learned some of the tricks–and when I say ‘my brother and I learned tricks,’ I mean I twirled endless chiffon scarfs from thin air and tried not to get cut in half, and he tried to cut me in half.

Tom Mead’s tale of conjuring, stage trickery, and locked room mystery somehow transports me back to my childhood, even though his 1930s setting is far further back than my 70s childhood! He gives us that Golden Age impossible puzzle–how is a man killed inside a locked room?–and I admit, my guess was quite wrong in this cleverly woven tale of intrigue and deceit, but the magic of smoke, mirrors, trickery, and Art Deco theatre more than made up… show more.