93 books like Olive Kitteridge

This is such an insightful glimpse into what happens when an artist—in this case, an architect—stops creating, that’s both hilarious and heartbreaking.

Describing the price of privilege, but without preciousness, Maria Semple illustrates the decline of a mother and professional, doing what seem like the right things while producing disastrous results that really ring true.

Fatigued by the priorities of high-tech Seattle, Bernadette loses her confidence and misplaces her trust. Then it’s her daughter who has to pull her back from the brink. Their love withstands the tests of culture, community, and commodity, reminding us of the remarkable symbiosis between mothers and daughters while showcasing Semple’s irrepressible, satiric wit.

Imagine a novel with 80-year-old female protagonists!

And what history these friends have at their classic waterside community. They’ve seen it all – lifelong relationships, betrayals, the bonds of a hard marriage, and the challenges of children. Their commitment to each other is the glue that binds.

I have few friends from early childhood, so I was especially touched by their ability to read each other so well, with that kind of radar unique to old friends, even as late-life challenges threaten to tear them apart. 

I was once in line to get a book signed by Elizabeth Strout, and the minute I opened my mouth to greet her, I burst into tears. That’s how much I loved this book.

I loved Amy, the mother, and how hard she was trying to parent her teenage daughter, Isabelle. And Isabelle, who is trying to figure out her place in the world ends up having an affair with her teacher. But what I love the most is how much I felt bad for both Isabelle, who is trying to sort out her feelings for her teacher and herself, and Amy, who is furious at her daughter, the teacher, and herself.

Strout is so good at these kinds of perfectly imperfect relationships, these people who love and hurt each other. I read this book at least a decade ago and I still feel the sadness and tenderness of it… show more.

In this story, we’re in Georgia, deep in its geology, which for me wouldn’t be a draw for a novel, but Eager presents this landscape through the unforgettable character of Doreen, who struggles with poverty, her role as a woman in Southern culture, her inadequacies as a parent yet emerges as a real hero in her own life and others. 

What I took away was a new view on female pride, a woman’s honor, and what limits an aware person puts on her self-sacrifice. The characters are not all that likable, with the exception of Doreen, yet I was completely engaged in the story. The way the author weaves in the geology, what remains in the earth’s memory, and what remains in human memory was brilliant.  

Can a woman be true to herself and her ideals, even while living a lie?

I felt this was the intriguing question posed by the novel Younger, which inspired the popular TV series from Darren Starr starring Sutton Foster. I loved both the book and the series with its personable main character and charming premise.

Recently single Alice desperately needs a job. But nobody wants to hire a forty-something divorcee who’s been out of the workforce for years. With help from her best friend, youthful-looking Alice poses as a millennial and lands a job at a publishing house, where she thrives. Masquerading as a younger woman is filled with excitement and romance but also with peril, and I enjoyed the unexpected complications Alice encountered during her quest to reinvent herself. 

I love stories in which the characters are thrust into unusual and unexpected circumstances. This was the case for Samantha Arias, who had to carry a heavier load than most middle-aged moms. Early widowhood, a chronic sleep disorder, a serious lack of self-esteem, and a close friend gravely ill with cancer were just a few of her challenges that made me empathize with her plight.

When Samantha and a third estranged friend embarked on a mission to rescue their sick friend’s dog, they took us on a long road trip that was both comical and action-packed. I laughed and cried as Samantha slowly opened herself up to embracing both new love and old friendship.  

Amy Bloom is one of the authors I admire most in the world, and I loved this story of two fascinating sisters, Eva and Iris, not just for Bloom’s enthralling use of language but also for the spiritedness and intrigue of who the sisters are. (While Iris, "the pretty one,” struggles to make it in Hollywood as a B-movie actress, Eva, “the smart one,” gets roped into offering tarot card readings to help support their ragtag family.)

I loved living in the world that Bloom created in a story that crisscrossed the U.S. and beyond in the 1940s, and I loved being constantly surprised by the sisters’ choices and the events that befall them–and by the riveting words used to describe them.  

I first fell in love with Emily Ruskovich’s short fiction, and this novel, which takes place near a fictionalized version of Mt. Hoodoo, captures the same uncanniness of the ordinary that first drew me to her work.

She captures the landscape’s strange darkness and stark beauty in such detail that I actually dreamt about it. And if you’re obsessed with memory like I am, you’ll be drawn to the way she exposes the shakiness of what we remember as “truth.” 

I love when stories tease out backstory in little bits, and this book does that wonderfully.

Right from the opening chapters, seeds of intrigue are sprinkled everywhere, and I had so many questions that I needed answers to. It’s the kind of opening where it seems that life is going well for the character, yet there is something amiss.

And then the metaphorical rug was pulled out from under me, and I had to stay up well past my bedtime because I just needed to know more.

What makes a woman a hero? Irish writer John Boyne’s narrator was a last choice for me—the daughter of a top-ranking Nazi war criminal who carries the burden of her past at 90. But I came to love the voice of this narrator, her brutal honesty with herself and her circumstances, and her growing awareness of her culpability, even as a child, for what happened.

Boyne elegantly explores the question of whether terrible acts by fathers make their children responsible or if children are inherently innocent. The story’s ending was a complete surprise, bringing this character to hero status in my eyes, as she chooses honor above safety.