Books like All Four Stars — picked by fans

Oh dear, I’m cheating again. Sort of. This isn’t really fantasy, either. It’s an adventure for young adults featuring teenage spy Alex Rider. But I love it too much to care, and besides, cheating is cool, kids! But there’s a specific reason why I’m finishing this list with Stormbreaker. Despite its exciting action, the book is written as a relatable and grounded affair. Alex Rider is an ordinary kid with ordinary problems. He’s ginger, often lonely, underestimated, and regularly cast aside. He’s relatable and that’s why I loved the books.

The film adaptation is a ridiculous charade of impossible stunts starring an incredibly handsome blonde-haired model and it feels like someone threw up confetti over a story that actually meant something to me. Fifteen-year-old me was justified in throwing his popcorn at the screen.

You describe a book as “Ocean’s Eleven for teens,” and I am a hundred percent in.

Like most heists, this one has the cat burglar and the genius hacker and the femme fatale and the getaway driver—except this time, they’re all teenagers. What a dream!

I just love a good heist story. They have to be so carefully crafted, so tightly plotted, and as a writer I really admire any storyteller who can do that. All three books in the Heist Society series are remarkable feats of plotting and pacing. I got to see Ally Carter give an author talk once, and she spoke about just how hard it is to write something that looks this easy. That’s so true; it really stuck with me.

This book was in my third-grade classroom library, and I read it so many times that when the school year ended, my teacher let me keep it. I’m glad she did, because I’ve never seen it anywhere else.

This was the first book I ever fell in love with about a kid doing something you thought only grown-ups were supposed to do—namely, becoming principal of her own school! Adult readers might protest that this premise is “unrealistic,” but it’s written in such a way that as a young reader it seemed completely plausible to me.

As a kid, there’s just so much that you have no control over, so the idea of earning a position with real power is incredibly appealing.

I wrote my first book and started submitting it to publishers when I was eleven years old. I dreamed of publishing a book before I graduated from high school.

Ultimately, that didn’t happen—I was 25 by the time I sold my first book. So you can see why I loved a story about a character who lived my dream; a 14-year-old girl who becomes a bestselling author. Most people didn’t believe that kids can be authors, but seeing another kid do it—even if her story is fictional—makes it feel possible.

At the end of a busy day, which is always almost 12 hours long, it is often difficult to wind down, and a David Gemmell book with its inspirational lessons was always perfect until the books ran out. Rereading them can only be done so many times, and reluctantly, I decided to try one of the two books he wrote in a genre I am never usually interested in.

Many people forget that he used to be a journalist and wrote two books that draw on that experience, but this one is by far my favorite. The PR blurb fails to mention that at the heart of this story, it is about propaganda in the media, and Gemmell is a master storyteller. His journalism experience makes it highly authentic in his portrayal of local journalism struggling to survive, and if you are a Gemmell sword and sorcery fan, you will… show more.

I worked in local papers at the start of my career and was always amazed at why a network that had so many talented writers produced so few books about the hilarious things and the tragic things we experienced. I think it's partly because local newspapers are often seen as a stepping stone, we focus on the famous at the pinnacle of their career, editing a national newspaper for example, when in fact local news careers could and should be an end in themselves.

Roger Lytollis is not only a brilliant writer, but his book is remarkably personal in the way he faces his own demons and how journalism helped him cope with extreme shyness and depression. Coupled with hilarious stories, I couldn't put it down.

First published in 1990 – based on a series of articles originally written for The New Yorker, this book is a warning to true crime authors the world over about the morality of reaching out and writing with and about murderers. 

The journalist in question is Joe McGinniss and the murderer is the former Special Forces Captain Dr Jeffrey MacDonald who became the subject of McGinniss’s 1983 book Fatal Vision. Is it ethical to collaborate with someone who has been accused of murder? What are the pitfalls that need to be managed? And, at the end of the day, who is conning who – the journalist or the murderer?

Covers some of the same ground as Joanne Freeman, regarding dueling, reputation, politics, and the press in the antebellum U.S.A. But what I really like about this book is how it makes those historical issues relatable to our contemporary era by drawing parallels and connections between the politicized press of the 19th century and present-day debates about free speech in social media. If modern Twitter warriors had lived in the 1800s, they would have needed to know how to handle a sword. 

The book Out on Assignment examines the careers of overlooked women who wrote for major metropolitan newspapers at the beginning of the twentieth century. Using archival materials, Alice Fahs describes a community of female journalists from numerous American cities. These newspaper women were part of a wave of women seeking a journalism career although their options were often limited. Although a few female journalists found hard-news reporting jobs in stunt work and undercover assignments, most found work in the women’s pages.

In these sections, they interviewed celebrities, advice columns, and suffrage news. Very little research has been done on women’s page journalism; this book provides an excellent foundation.

This book helped crystallize something I’ve long suspected: that democracy’s strength—its openness—is also its greatest vulnerability. Gershberg and Illing don’t just chart the rise of populist rhetoric or disinformation; they go deeper, showing how the evolution of media itself has upended the cultural foundations of democratic life.

Their argument that “media ecology is the master political science” felt especially resonant. It’s not just what we know—it’s how we come to know it, and how that process can be gamed. If you want to understand why democratic institutions feel so unstable today, this is one of the sharpest diagnoses I’ve read.