Books like Follow Me to Ground — picked by fans

It starts with arguably the most famous first line any novelist has ever written, and I certainly couldn’t stop reading once I had absorbed that.

Rebecca is a classic for all sorts of great reasons. For me, the house is a character here. Manderley is as Gothic as I could ever wish for (and I LOVE Gothic).

Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper, is one of the most sinister characters ever written. When this novel was first published (1938), certain subjects were pretty much taboo. In the light of today's increased awareness of people’s differing sexualities, I think it’s probably easier to understand her motives – not that it makes her any less scary.

For me, this is a masterpiece of storytelling that defies genre categorization and puts du Maurier firmly in my top favourite authors list.

This is hands-down a standout for me in its unique portrayal of the Asian-American immigrant story. Set during the California Gold Rush, the novel tells the tale of Lucy, a young, orphaned Chinese-American woman, and the adventure she and her sister embark on to carve a new, secure future for themselves.

It is at once an unforgettable adventure and an unflinching exploration of sisterhood that made me consider how the female bildungsroman is often not so much about a woman growing up but rather growing into the self she wants to be, despite the confines of the society in which she lives. Plus, Zhang’s original, gleaming prose is just a delight to read.

When I first read Interview with the Vampire (I was 12), I was struck by how Anne Rice made darkness beautiful. The mood, the grief, the sensuality—it all felt so rich and strange and alive.

I didn’t just want to read about Louis and Lestat; I wanted to live inside that shadowed world, however painful. The power of her vampires was alluring, even as their sadness confused me. How could being immortal be such a torment?

This book taught me that supernatural fiction could be poetic, philosophical, even transcendent. There’s a reason this novel endures.

It made me want to write stories where beauty and horror dance together in candlelight.

I find that Frankenstein transcends eras by posing critical questions about the ways we develop and use new technology.

I first read a comic-book version in elementary school and have returned to Shelly’s novel over the years because it stimulates my critical thinking about technology, particularly the current rise of AI and our response to it. Frankenstein raises a fundamental ethical question about technology in real life: just because humans can create something, should they actually create it?

For me, the novel also creates the opportunity to explore questions about how we engage technology once we choose to invent it. Dr. Frankenstein abandons his creation, and the creature becomes an angry monster. I ask myself, is this an allegory for our own response to technology?

Much like the bibliophilic protagonist of The Shadow of the Wind, I discovered this life-changing novel in a most hidden corner of the world—in my case, tucked out of sight on the bottom shelf of a discount bookstore in the Red Light District of Amsterdam.

While the narrative focuses on one child’s unwavering perseverance to solve the mysterious disappearance of his favorite author and unmask the pyromaniac burning all his books, I became enmeshed in the noir-style, labyrinthine backdrop of 1940s-50s Barcelona in the aftermath of the Spanish Civil War.

This masterpiece is equal parts mystery, coming-of-age, midcentury gothic, and European historical fiction, and left me with eyes brimming with tears when I finished the final page.

Have you ever read a book that makes your mouth and eyes water at the same time? That makes you laugh and takes your breath away and pisses you off and has you telling your partner every single detail of it, assuring they’ll never need to read it, but they want to anyhow? That’s Like Water for Chocolate.

The opening scene sets the whole tone of the book, and from then on, it sways between emotional heartbreaker, hilarious romp, devastating family drama, and magical realism that is so brilliant it feels real. What I’m saying is, it’s a delight.

Some say this book is horror. I recommend it not as a horror book, but as a glimpse into illness, grief, and uncertainty through the lens of magical realism.

I see the moments along the way that are scary, but for me, those are just jump pads to the action of living, of existing, of the complicated state of being unwell, and how love will allow you to accept more than you thought you were capable of.

Does Julia know she showcased the slow decline of a chronically ill person in the way she did? I do not know. But as a chronically ill person myself, I saw poignant vignettes of tenderness around the topic.

Though the dual storylines, the unknown, the fear, are interesting and creative, it’s the quiet moments between two women who love each other, just wondering what’s next, that will stay with you.

There is something special about Heather Webber’s work—all of it, mind you. But South of the Buttonwood Tree has something a little extra. 

It’ll break your heart on the same page you’re laughing. Her characters become people you’ve known your whole life by the end of the first chapter. By the end of the book, you’re leaving friends and family behind to live their lives without you—that’s how rich the story is.

There is no getting bogged down in details, yet you have them all. The story flows in a rhythm that feels warm and comforting but not so formulaic that you know what to expect when you read the first word. She really hits that comfort spot I know I need, and you might too.

This book is like taking a step inside a dream. For me, it had everything I could ever ask for from a novel—lyrical prose, gorgeous imagery, fun and lovable characters, a little bit of quirk, and a rare depth at the heart of it. Nature is a major element, taking place in Oklahoma, Oregon, Michigan, Mississippi, and Montana. The writing is so vivid it immerses you in the adventure, making it feel as though you’re walking beneath the pines, smelling the gulf coast air, or simply marveling in the beauty of the natural world alongside Wylan, the quirky and heroic protagonist. 

I immediately loved this book for its alternate history, detailed folklore, and dark academic vibes. I connected with the complex characters and a strong female protagonist who was fearless of social expectations. The unique combination of folklore and an archaeology background that I share with the author Heather Fawcett was something I found familiarity with instantly.

I enjoyed the alternate history where dark academia met with the more traditional Gaslamp-style fantasy fiction to create something new. This combination of dark academia, marginalized voices, and alternate history is a style I enjoy delving into the past in new, unusual ways and revealing voices that otherwise remain unheard.