Books like Bone Jack — picked by fans

The book is wonderfully weird even though it starts out in ordinary settings. I loved it because the ride was wild and fast-paced and took so many turns; I couldn’t put it down.

The vivid detail helped me see the strange ball game or the flying car, and it was so well set up that I didn’t question any of it. The story took me on an adventure, and I didn’t let go until the very end.

The Horse and His Boy is the story-within-a-story of The Chronicles of Narnia that baffles some readers of the series but is beloved to others. I am one of the latter. I have always, since I was a kid, loved this story of longing, coming-of-age, and enemies to friends to lovers—all couched in a race against time to warn Narnia about a coming invasion! Shasta and Aravis are a perfect quarreling couple as they both leave home and comfort to set out into the wide world, and the profound changes they undergo along the way add just the right depth to the classic tale. From start to finish, this is fantasy Bildungsroman at its finest.

Even though this book has some major plot issues, when I read it a decade or more ago it instantly became one of my favorites. I don’t think Laymon writes about kids much, but he did a good job with the three friends in The Traveling Vampire Show. The budding, awkward romance between the two of them was realistic, and the comic relief that the third provided was great. The story gets a bit wild at the end with the excessive violence and nudity, but that’s what Laymon got off writing about (sadly he passed away a number of years ago), and if you’re okay with those types of things, you’ll certainly enjoy the ride.

The Magicians is what happens when a kid who’s obsessed with a series like The Chronicles of Narnia grows up, is accepted into a magical university, and discovers along the way that the fantasy world he so loved reading about is real…but not quite what he imagined. This novel, the first in a trilogy, offers a more jaded look at some of the beloved aspects of children’s fantasy and how they might play out with young adults discovering themselves and seeking purpose.

What’s so neat about this book is that it doesn’t just capture a light-hearted and moving glimpse into English academia; it provides glimpses into a man’s—an institution in himself—relationships with his wife, coworkers, and students.

I enjoyed the progression of time. Several generations of students interact with the aging, albeit the same, “Mr. Chips.” There’s something neat about that.

Young love gone off the rails. David, the teenage narrator, loves his girlfriend so much or so badly that he lights her family’s house on fire. The aftermath of that choice—his desperation to explain, to have them understand what he meant—propels him forward and us backward as he tells the story of an intense and overwhelming first love.

I felt carried away by this book. It was the kind I read with one hand over my mouth, half my brain going “no, no, no” as I kept turning the pages.

I read this book years ago but it’s always stayed with me.

The teenage protagonist, 13-year-old Jason from Worcestershire, England, has a stammer: a speech difficulty that haunts him and has him performing all kinds of manoeuvers to avoid saying certain sounds in class. This would only add embarrassment onto all the other embarrassments he feels as a boy going through puberty.

He calls his stammer ‘Hangman’. As well as this daily struggle, he realises his parents are arguing, and he gets bullied at school.

As a reader, I was touched by his resilience and doggedness. David Mitchell has admitted that the book is semi-autobiographical and this adds another layer of poignancy. 

Taking stock of my selections, I realise that they are all to some degree autobiographical or semi-autobiographical. Just why I am attracted to this genre I don’t know: perhaps I am fascinated by the technical challenge of finding a narrative voice that is both personal and detached, of impersonalising emotions that could easily just be self-indulgent. Humour is often useful here, and Vladislavics’s novel is richly humorous, in its (lightly fictionalised) account of a culturally challenging boyhood in Pretoria, at the time the whitest and most conservative city in South Africa (interestingly, also the setting for Galgut’s The Promise). Young Joe, the stand-in for the author has, apart from an addiction to reading, a consuming interest in Muhammed Ali, and has kept a scrapbook of every newspaper item he could find relating to the great boxer. The bookworm-boxing addict is entirely engaging, as brought to life by a master… show more.

The sardonic humor is what grabbed me first. But as I gleefully zipped through this story of a lesbian’s coming of age in a repressive Pentecostal church, the author was quietly raising the stakes. She delivers profound observations of how family expectations disproportionately damage queer people. Religion always complicates such stories.

As a gay man who grew up Catholic, I was entranced by how the book deals with faith. When the protagonist starts to understand her own sexual impulses, the power and depth of human emotion also dawn on her. Her religion and family don’t have satisfying answers, and so she creates her own kind of faith. Reading how she does it was incredibly moving for me. 

I’m a sucker for a pun, and this is another witty book about a serious subject, so it’s right up my street. Milton it ain’t—I romped through it at a time when I was desperate for entertainment. Aging is explored with a sense of freshness and fun as a teenager goes to work in an old people’s home.