Books like Come and Get It — picked by fans

This book is chaos-defined, and I felt absolutely giddy when I first read it. Olivie Blake knows what readers want, and her books are not afraid to speak to their id. How could I not love a school of twentysomething lust-filled, murderous magicians?

It is also happy to scratch the romance itch; it’s the rare book where it feels like any two characters could have a romantic relationship, and many do. Even better, it’s full of delicious twists and betrayals and never lets its characters off the hook.

Humor has always pulled me through the hard parts of life, and laughter is the test that tells me if I’ll be compatible with someone when we first meet. So to read a ridiculous character who’s coming in hot right on page one, charging through the story with absolutely no filter, epic foibles fully (and uncomfortably) detailed, and unable to stop making terrible decisions had me cackling out loud.

I was initially drawn to this book for the perfect cover, but I quickly fell in love with the writing and a story that captures that frustrating push and pull of wanting what we can’t have. It’s a delightful mess of bees, goats, awkward sex, strange conversations, and women doing whatever they want. 

This was provocative in a different way, in that it made me realize how accurately an author can capture the voice of the opposite sex.

Dolly’s portrayal of Andy was, in many ways, both convincing and emotionally resonant, and she achieves this while sustaining a thoroughly entertaining narrative. It was a bittersweet experience because, as enjoyable as the read was, it set an excessively high benchmark for my own attempt.

Thankfully, by the time I got around to reading her book, it was too late to do anything about it, other than make a mental note of how much work would be required if I ever decided to make another run at it.

This is my most recent “can’t look away” read. The titular Piglet hits rock bottom and keeps digging after her idea of a perfect life with her fiancé Kit goes up in flames. Lottie Hazell really knows how to do a set piece with constant escalating tension. Every food-related meltdown in Piglet proved more anxiety-inducing than the last, particularly a scene of Piglet frantically trying to bake a croquembouche on the day of her disastrous wedding.

I always appreciate a book that refuses to give the reader breathing room and puts you in the scene with its characters. Piglet’s pages and pages of bad decisions–and the empathy Hazell’s narrative still manages to weave in for her characters–make this a gripping, satisfying read.

Scarlett Clark is a bi serial killer who kills bad men. Carly Schiller is a queer student who just escaped an abusive father. Their storylines are equally gripping, with moments of unexpected intensity in both lust and fear. Layne Fargo creates a world so grounded in reality that, as a woman, it was painful to read at times—micro-aggressions, normalized inappropriate touching. Fargo doesn’t exaggerate it, she just exposes it as part of the narrative. Better yet, she gives a glimmer of equalization in the form of Scarlett who focuses her urge to kill in a direction that’s easy to root for, to want to read. It was wanting a serial killer to go on with her work that made this book and Scarlett a standout.

I like An Unquiet Mind because Kay Redfield Jameson tells her story of being a college professor while living with bipolar disorder.

She writes as if talking to a friend that she can trust, and she took me on her journey of incredible highs and grandiose thoughts and devastating lows of debilitating depression. I, too, live with bipolar disorder, and as I read this book, I saw myself. It helped me realize I am not alone. It gave me hope that I, too, would come out the other side.

I keep this book close and pick it up often. It is an old friend that helped me heal.

These are solid mysteries with plenty of twists and delightful primary characters.

Something about the voice of this series simply works for me. It's cozy without being too cutesy. The characters feel real. Even Sid, the living skeleton, feels like a real person, and the books might work almost as well if he was human, but he adds some fun and complications because he can’t let people see him.

Start at the beginning of the series and keep reading! It's worth it.

In its early decades, from the 1880s to the 1930s, Wellesley College boasted not merely a woman president but—alone among the “Seven Sisters”—an exclusively female faculty. Palmieri examines the impact of an all-woman community on the college’s students, professors, traditions, and development. A model exploration of campus culture, highly original, and a fascinating read.

This memoir by a brave woman who stood up to both Presidents Trump and Putin is a revealing look at the inner workings of the Trump administration’s dysfunctional foreign policy. Fiona Hill bears an uncanny resemblance to my heroine, Delphine Roget. Born to a poor mining family in the North of England, she worked her way to the top through sheer intellectual brilliance and willpower. When push came to shove, she told the truth to Congress about Trump’s outrageous misuse of presidential power. But the book is much more than that. It is a searching examination of how capitalism has left whole communities behind as industries crumble, posing a threat to democracies worldwide.

Pictures from an Institution, to my mind, is the best novel written by a poet. It’s comical, biting, engrossing, moving, and flat-out entertaining. Once again, we are back in academia, at a woman’s college based loosely on Sarah Lawrence, and never has academia been skewered more amusingly. Regarding the college, one character muses, “You Americans do not rear children, you incite them; you give them food and shelter and applause.” The novel’s jokes—aphorisms, wisecracks, putdowns—come so fast and furious one could lose track of the story, if the story itself were not so interesting…and jovial. It’s funnier than throwing a hardboiled egg into an electric fan. Pictures from an Institution is also learned and wise and, underneath the drollery, there is a basic humanism that does not allow you to dismiss the book as mere satire.