Books like Flora — picked by fans

In So Long, See You Tomorrow, an adult narrator looks back at childhood and the lingering effects of childhood loss and displacement. He recalls his mother’s death, his father’s remarriage, and moving from a beloved home. The author also tells a parallel story of the scandal that befell his friend Cletus: his father shot his mother’s lover, and then drowned himself. For the narrator, his lost boyhood home is recalled like a dream of paradise lost, a mirage of another life: “I dream about it, the proportions are so satisfying to the eye and the rooms so bright, so charming and full of character that I feel I must somehow give up my present life and go live in that house: that nothing else will make me happy.” This novel about haunting memories of a lost place and past will haunt the reader. This was one of my… show more.

The atmosphere and voice created by Robinson in this timeless and widely beloved novel, which is potent in a way that’s difficult to quantify, has endured in my memory since I first read it as a teenager. In prose rich with imagery and allusion, narrator Ruth tells the story of how she and her sister, Lucille—orphaned after their mother’s suicide—came to be cared for by their aunt, Sylvie, an eccentric drifter, who moves into their rural Idaho home and alters the tenor of their lives.

This is written with the precision of poetry, containing such sentences as, “When she had been married a little while, she concluded that love was half a longing of a kind that possession did nothing to mitigate.” A novel to re-read and savor.

Shirley is set in author Shirley Jackson’s rambling Victorian house in Vermont, adjacent to the Bennington College campus. This is a story of psychological intrigue and intertwined creative and destructive influences, families in trouble, and ghostly presences. The story is narrated by a young faculty wife, Rose. She and her husband, a new professor at the College, live with Jackson and her husband, Professor Stanley Hyman. The house and the household are attractive and sinister, emotionally fraught and seductive. Merrell and I met as classmates in the Bennington Writing Seminars. We exchanged manuscripts for our then novels-in-progress. Now, as I re-read Shirley, I remember our walks past the house.

Wright Morris believed that we are “inhabited” by the places where we have lived.

The Home Place is set on the plains of Nebraska where Morris was born. The text is combined with his photographs of farm buildings, farmhouse interiors, farming implements, cooking utensils, and furniture. Narrator Clyde Muncy returns from New York to the farm in Nebraska where he grew up, bringing his own family. He re-experiences the farm through the eyes, ears, and especially noses of his city wife and children. When his son sniffs a croquet ball and says it smells like the subway, Muncy observes, “Two thousand miles from New York a city boy turns up something in a farmyard, it smells damp and earthy, like a storm cave, so he calls it the subway smell.” Morris eschews sentimentality. His plain prose and black-and-white photographs are austere, like the farm itself. “Home is where you… show more.

It started out with the hoariest of romance novel cliches—the bickering couple I knew would end up in love—but the setting alone was enough to guarantee spookier plot developments.

Barbara Michaels, better known for her mystery novels as Elizabeth Peters, never fails to entertain, and the descriptions of eerie ghostly manifestations here are top-notch.

Gaby Triana excels at creating and transmitting atmosphere. She transports you into the swamps, oppressive heat, terrors, and scares of the Florida she has created in her Haunted Florida trilogy of which this is the final part.

In City of Spells, Queylin Sanchez runs a shop selling incense, charms, and all manner of items designed to appeal to those interested in the occult, but when an elderly man crosses the threshold and enlists her help in ridding his home of an unwanted ghost, she accepts the commission and sets in motion a frightening chain of events that threaten her sanity and her life – in fact, much more than that is at stake as she unravels the sinister and disturbing truth.

I can assure you, the tradition of Southern Gothic is alive and well in this author’s capable hands. If you haven’t read any of Gaby’s work yet – it’s… show more.

Most vacations take place in the summer, and this next book is a perfect example of how wrong they can go. I love how unique this take on the genre is: it actually takes place over three houses on Beldame, a small island on the Gulf Coast of Alabama.

I really appreciated the dramatic tensions between the two families, amplified by heat, secrets, and worse. This gem of Southern Gothic fiction does a stellar job of walking the line between real and supernatural. Like a tidal island, the reader may find themselves slowly submerging into horror. The way each character’s nightmares are slowly revealed and realized has stayed with me for a long time.

I love haunted house stories, and this one was genuinely creepy. It is a first-person account of the growing paranoia of a couple looking to escape their own demons, with both unable to communicate the weird things happening in their house.

I love how it subverted your usual ghost story elements. Instead of leaky pipes, weird spaces appear in the walls. Instead of creepy moans, bruises appear out of nowhere. Is it psychosis? Sickness? Or is something otherworldly in the house? I don’t know. The unsettling horror is ambiguity amplified by a failure of communication, and that’s why I find it so creepy.  

I love a classic, gothic haunted house story with an unexpected twist, and Priory delivers. When Oliver Hardacre returns to his namesake home, located outside the gloriously atmospheric Yorkshire town of Whitby, he opens the door to his past. The narrative is told from Oliver’s modern perspective and his mother’s point of view in the 1970s, when Oliver and his brother were children at Hardacre Priory. Replete with dark, twisted secrets and multi-layered, complex characters, Wright’s sentient, menacing estate comes alive under her masterful touch. This is a short read, easily finished in one sitting. Crack it open on a foggy morning, with a spot of tea and a blanket to cut the chill.

This is the book that taught me how powerful loneliness can be.

Every time I return to it, I feel one character’s ache settle into me, that desperate want to belong somewhere, even if it’s a house that doesn’t love you back. I recommend it because it still feels as if I’m attempting to figure out what is happening alongside the characters, the way only great writing can.

Jackson makes you realize that the scariest hauntings aren’t in the walls, they’re the ones we carry within us.