Books like Distant Waves — picked by fans

This list could be full of Toni Morrison novels and be no worse for it.

I’d argue that the late writer is the finest we’ve ever had on the topics of grief, loss, and ancestry—especially from the Black American perspective. One of my favorite examples is Song of Solomon, a mesmerizing journey through what it takes to craft an identity in the midst of racism and the ruptures it creates in our lives.

Morrison's singular prose is pure magic as it weaves a tale of the enduring power of love. A literary masterpiece.

I’ve always been fascinated by terrible periods in history: the Nazis, witchcraft trials, and the American Deep South in the days of slavery. I need to know why people behaved in the heinous ways they did; paradoxically, a bit like time travel, the more I read, the less things make sense.

Our heroine is an African-American woman from modern times who finds herself sent back to early nineteenth-century Maryland when slavery was rife. We experience her reactions to it through a modern lens. It reminded me of the TV series Outlander in the way it builds whole lives back in time. It didn’t pull any punches and wasn’t always easy reading, but I couldn’t put it down.

One of my all-time favorite books. I recommend the whole trilogy. This YA book focuses on a young girl named Janie who has grown up with the annoying (sometimes dangerous) power of constantly getting sucked into people’s dreams when they sleep near her. It’s dark and realistic. There’s a mystery and it turns into a Veronica Mars-esque detective story, especially as the books progress. The romance is also amazingly developed. Chef’s kiss.   

I’ve heard people say this book is “magical,” and that description is spot on.

I cannot get over how cute this book was! A sprinkle of magic, found family, finding yourself, and amazing descriptions of the city. This book gave me so many sparkly feels. I begged for the two characters to get together and rooted for the MC from page one. The plot was phenomenally creative, genuinely like nothing I had ever read within contemporary romance.

I finished this book faster than any other book of the year. 

Watching reenactors wearing tricorne hats and stockings, I never associated the American Revolution with war atrocities until I read this book. What’s worse is it happened in my own backyard. After the British landed and routed Washington’s fledging army, they occupied Manhattan. 

Their biggest problem was prisoners of war. They were housed in twenty-something “hulked” ships with cannon and sails removed in Wallabout Bay off Brooklyn. Watson focuses on the most infamous of these floating prisons, the HMS Jersey.

His vivid descriptions of the thousand or so men and boys shackled there make for claustrophobic reading. After the war, the Bill of Rights was issued in response to our treatment by the British. The HMS Jersey was sunk–a ghostly reminder of our past.

Raffles explores geology through both a historic and an autobiographical lens.

We might understand the ‘unconformities’ of the title as both unconventional geological formations and members of Raffles’s own family (though I imagine he might question my urge to distinguish between the two.)

The book is episodic, and follows Raffles on his travels to sites of geological and personal significance.

Throughout he also draws out the long history of exploitation bound up in our relationship to the mineral realm, including the removal of iron-rich meteorites from indigenous communities in the arctic circle, and the forced labour of the Glimmerwerke – mica splitting workshops – at Theresienstadt ghetto during the Second World War.

In my book I describe geology as a storytelling science – Raffles is something closer to a poet.

The Emperor’s Children is a brilliant novel about three college friends making their way in the world, each representing a different social stratum. Marina Thwaite, an “It” girl from a wealthy, intellectual, and well-known family is the epitome of class and privilege. But then her idealistic, ambitious cousin arrives, and life gets complicated. A story of ambition, illusions, delusions, and self-invention, The Emperor’s Children is a dazzling novel.  

Half the fun of reading a Detective John Corey novel is his smartass humor and snarky dialogue. The other half is watching his dogged pursuit of the bad guys. In Radiant Angel, he's working for the Diplomatic Surveillance Group in New York City. His assignment? Keep tabs on a Russian diplomat who may be an enemy agent on a deadly mission. 

The threat? A nuclear bomb—aka radiant angel—small enough to fit in a suitcase, big enough to blow New York City to smithereens, with enough radioactive fallout to cripple the US for years. The bonus is experiencing the action from the Russian agent's perspective, including his fear of failing to complete his mission. And the clock is ticking so John Corey must figure out how to stop him pronto.

Picture Jack Reacher on an NYC subway car at 2 AM with a suicide bomber. Will she blow up the car and everyone in it? I love how Lee Child keeps us in suspense, not just for a page or two, for twenty-seven pages! Reacher finds out the woman had a dangerous secret, but everyone he talks to lies to him. Each chapter ends with a cliffhanger and more questions. 

But many people want Reacher to stop asking questions: a former Delta Force operative running for the US Senate, two Al Qaeda agents, NYC cops, and FBI agents. They want Reacher to get lost and forget the suicide bomber. Fat chance! The complex plot will intrigue you. The climactic ending will terrify you even more than the suicide bomber.

I was volunteering with the Appalachian Prison Book Project when Hugh Ryan’s book came out.

Suddenly, The Women’s House of Detention was everywhere—RuPaul’s Drag Race, Fresh Air, mainstream news—yet Hugh was willing to do a virtual book talk with volunteers in West Virginia who provide books to incarcerated people. The book tells the history of a prison 500 feet from the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village, and the women and transgender individuals who were incarcerated there because of their gender performance and sexual orientation.

Hugh Ryan lays out how women were arrested for going out at night alone, wearing pants, accepting a date from a man, drunkenness, etc., if they were perceived as the “wrong kind of woman.” The prison stood in Greenwich Village from 1929 to 1974, and the experience of women incarcerated there drives home the point that incarceration and punishment of women is not… show more.