56 Books Like Four Funerals, No Marriage

I’ve never read a series that made me feel both highly spiritual and completely grounded like Michael Newton’s Soul series did. These books shifted everything for me. They helped me see that my struggles—and even the difficult people in my life—from a higher perspective. This is when I began to understand that this life isn’t supposed to be all rainbows and butterflies.

Life here on Earth is a school, and we’re all here to learn. These books helped me remember that we’ve all played every role—every gender, every skin color, the villain, and the hero. I come back to them when I need perspective, when I forget that challenges are part of the soul’s evolution, and when I need a reminder to not take things here too seriously. They didn’t just change how I think—they changed how I feel about being human.

Dr. Kay Scarpetta isn’t a professional detective – she’s the Chief Medical Examiner for Virginia. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t get to be embroiled in all kinds of bizarre murder cases – including the baffling death of an innocent young girl which results in Kay having to visit the gruesome pathologist’s playground known as the Body Farm. Kay is tough, a good shot (which comes in handy in this case, I can tell you), and willing to use her incredible forensic skills to bring the guilty to justice.

I read this book for background for my first novel, in an effort to understand why some physicians (very few, thank goodness) kill. What I discovered in this book is what I experienced in real life working for eleven years in healthcare: hospitals are breeding grounds for medical error and cover-ups. Physician, protect thyself, so to speak. The number of times this insane MD (Michael Swango) was allowed to continue practicing when he could have been stopped is appalling, but not surprising to those inside healthcare.

This book sat on my parent's bookshelf when I was a child, and I would sporadically remove it and read it at various stages of my life. As an adult, I returned to it when I had three kids of my own. It reminds me how important family is and how fleeting childhood is. Angela learns this the hard way in my own book, and I pictured her reading this book after her children had been stolen from her. As I was writing, it always left me in tears.

I was curious to find how Bronnie Wave became an accidental end of life carer. I found it interesting to read this was often shaped by the outlook of those she was caring for rather than any pre-fixed ideas on her part.

I congratulate Bronnie on a career she has taken to brilliantly which also brings to the reader her unique insight.

There are three things that Americans try to avoid talking about: sex, money, and death. This book takes us on a journey to explore the meaning of life and how we find wisdom in its endings.

Examining our habits, culture, and rituals it shows us different ways to face loss. As someone who has never liked to peer too closely into the dark cave to explore the meaning of death, I found the book gently and intelligently leading me by the hand into thinking about loss. Reading it even helped me to reconcile the pain of my mother’s loss and death by Alzheimer’s, shifting my focus to the parts of her that remain with and as a part of me.

I highly recommend it to all humans! 

Dr. Irvin Yalom is a writer and clinical practitioner who is beloved by many in the field of mental health and therapy. I, like many, admire the way in which he tackles the most difficult human dilemmas through intimate stories highlighting the universality of many of these topics. It was difficult for me to pick which of Dr. Yalom’s books to recommend, as I have thoroughly enjoyed each one I’ve read. However, The Schopenhauer Cure is particularly about confronting mortality—the realization of the ephemerality of life and the limitations and acceptance of what we can achieve. Through Dr. Yalom’s adroit depictions of Philip Slate and Julius Hertzfeld, we see the blurred edges of philosophy and psychology, where some of our most basic questions may best be addressed by the melding of the two.

The Calling is certainly bloody but not in the vein of over-the-top whodunits. The killings aren’t sensationalized. An apparent mercy killer talks himself into dying people’s homes and then murders them to get their blood for a sacrifice that brings his brother back to life. Spooky and compelling. Although the killer is a messianic zealot, he’s believable, which is a tribute to the author’s talent (NB: Inger Ash Wolfe is the crime fiction pen-name of Michael Redhill.) The Calling is the first novel in a fine series featuring DI Hazel Micallef.

Intimate Death stands out through its spare and poetic language, its astute observation of the experiences of illness and dying, and matters of human dignity. Marie de Hennezel is a French psychologist. With great compassion and sensitivity, she shares her conversations with patients. She tells of life's unfinished business and how she learned to attend to it. Her writing is beautiful and transformative. It will touch your heart and change how you will view death.

Another book I would like to mention is Henri Nouwen’s Our Greatest Gifts: A Meditation on Dying and Caring. Nouwen is a Catholic priest and spiritual writer. Like de Hennezel, he touches the reader through his poetic and direct style.

I adore stories about medical ethics and weighted decisions, those which cause me to ponder what I would do if faced with a similar choice. 

Joe O’Brien, a veteran police officer, is devastated to receive a diagnosis of Huntington’s disease. With a fifty percent chance of inheriting the disease, each of his four adult children must decide whether to get tested. Will they decide to learn their fate and face the consequences or roll the dice and take their chances?