Books like By Blood — picked by fans

Are you like me? A people pleaser? So concerned about what the other person is feeling that I’m not even aware of my own feelings? Then this book is for you. Don’t be put off by the awkward title; it’s not about high-IQ kids. The drama is the way children must hide their true selves to please their parents; the gift is the ability to suppress our own needs.

Miller writes, “There are many children who have not been free, right from the beginning, to experience the very simplest of feelings, such as discontent, anger, rage, pain, even hunger—and, of course, the enjoyment of their own bodies.”

I feel that! Miller explains how therapy can help us confront and heal from that rage and pain. I get mad and cry every time I reread this book.  

What happens when a client turns on a therapist? I hope I never find out.

I picked up Helene Flood's novel out of curiosity. As a writer, I wanted to know how Flood turns two people sitting in a room quietly talking into a plot that will hold readers' attention. I don’t want to give anything away, except to say her book deftly and accurately shows a clinician using her training to solve a terrible crime and save herself.

It was easy for me to identify with both the protagonist and the author. Flood and I are both practicing psychologists specializing in trauma. I’m grateful for a good read and a reminder to screen potential clients carefully.

There’s a long history of books about mental illness that regard the subject as though it exists in a bubble—something that impacts a single individual, or maybe a family, but is otherwise disconnected from broader social and political realities.

Ben Lerner’s semi-autobiographical novel hit me somewhere deep in my chest because it does precisely the opposite. With a mounting sense of dread, his book explores psychological disturbance and the attempts to treat it as phenomena rooted firmly in our world, and all the messy smaller worlds within: worlds of privilege, misogyny, and xenophobia, to name a few. I still think about the last chapter often.

I love books with sardonic humor, especially those that poke fun at psychologists and other mental health professionals. I do it in my own novels.

Most clinicians are earnest, compassionate, and ethical. But like every other profession, we have some bad apples who give psychology a bad name and deserve all the jokes and cartoons and late-night comedy sketches we get.

Shapiro’s book is about a neurotic writer with a weight problem who searches for a new therapist after her long-time clinician leaves town. Applying speed dating to her protagonist’s search for a shrink was the perfect vehicle for taking jabs at my profession.

I laughed more than I cringed. It was, for me, an opportunity to look at myself and my colleagues from the client’s point of view. 

Now we’re back in my most favorite place, San Francisco. Place is as much a character as the living, breathing people we meet in the pages of novels or non-fiction, and the author, Andrew Sean Greer, chose to tell a most curious tale in my hometown. We’re in San Francisco at the turn of the twentieth century where we meet a strange gnome-like man who ages backwards. He’s in love with a young lady who is normal in every way. With a nod to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Curious Life of Benjamin Button, here time is the great force that shifts reality and asks the age-old question, what does it mean to be a human being?

On her thirtieth birthday, good girl and Manhattan attorney Rachel White sleeps with her best friend’s fiancé. To complicate matters, it’s not just a drunken mistake—Rachel realizes she’s always had feelings for him and learns that he too has feelings for her. With its messy, complicated relationships and deep dive into female friendship, I could not put this book down. This was one of the first “chick lit” novels I read about a single, urban professional woman navigating her career and personal life. And even while I was cringing at some of Rachel’s choices, I admired how honest and flawed the characters were in this story and loved Giffin’s smooth writing style, and have devoured all of her books ever since reading this one. 

This was an unexpected read on a few levels. First, that ending! Oh, that ending was rude! It definitely left me on a cliffhanger, which I both love and hate. Let’s be real, I do it in my own writing. It keeps the reader guessing and leaves the reader wanting more. But I also found it to be fast-paced, which isn’t the usual for a romantic fantasy. It had all the elements I love: morally gray heroine, lovers to enemies, love triangle, all the tropes that just go deliciously in a fantasy.

John Barth’s first novel, originally published in 1956 and later significantly revised, is a darkly comic philosophical novel whose main character, Todd Andrews, is contemplating suicide.

The novel, along with Barth’s second, The End of the Road, is written in a relatively realistic style, different from the metafictional turn that the author would later take in his subsequent fiction. Nevertheless, these two early books are in some ways consistent with later works like Giles Boat Boy and Lost in the Funhouse, particularly in the passages about metaphor in life and art.

Barth’s musings about metaphors in the real world are relevant to Wiseman’s ability to wrest metaphoric implications from real-world events and objects. Indeed, Wiseman’s films are a veritable floating opera of signifiers.

Another classic—this one, from 1955, which was twice made into a movie, in 1958 and in the superior 2002 remake, with Brendan Frazier and Michael Cain. The Quiet American is described as many things—as a Vietnam war book, as a critique of American imperialist impulses. But at heart, it’s the story of a love triangle.

And the woman at the center of the love triangle, Phuong, is an all-time favorite character of mine. With watchful attention and subtle silences, she dictates the fate of the two men. More important than anything we ever see her say are the things we see her do and not do. 

I love the novel’s spare prose and its observations and asides, which are astute and oftentimes quite funny. And in the book’s pages, Vietnam, in the years just before the disastrous French then American wars, comes vividly to life. But Phuong is the reason… show more.

The Crown’s Game is a beautiful novel set in Imperial Russia, with two protagonists who possess markedly different magical abilities: Vika, whose powers are natural and arising from within herself and the land, and Nikolai, an enchanter who has learned his skills through difficult studies. It is a beautiful and enchanting read, with thoughtful prose and unforgettable characters. With a heart-wrenching love triangle and a magical contest between these two enchanters, it is a story that’s hard to put down (and fortunately, there is a sequel that is just as captivating!).