Books like From the Terrace — picked by fans

This roman à clef about billionaire Howard Hughes has everything you covet in a great beach read: money, power, sex, betrayal.

The rugged tycoon Jonas Cord and the screen siren Rita Marlowe tussle, tangle, couple, uncouple, and everything in between over decades and continents, and Robbins’s talent for saucy dialogue and spicier plotlines furiously bubbles to the surface in perhaps the last great book he wrote before his own life—as dramatic as anything he penned—and his work both began to crumble.

It’s hardly short (the original hardback clocks in at a hefty 650-plus pages), but I could not get enough of its blazing, take-no-prisoners leads as they barreled through the worlds of show business, aviation, and business to conquer the world.   

The first great American trashy novel, Peyton Place today seems rather tame, but in its day, it was scandalous. Plucking it from my mother’s bookcase when I was 14, I was engrossed by its roaring passion and sensational secrets.

Set in a small New England town, the book set the stage for the modern soap opera, and I wolfed it down like a big box of candy. It reminds me of those great, heady melodramas of the 1950s (and was itself made into a fabulously sudsy film in 1957), an intoxicating mix of all things forbidden.

I adored the fact that it was literary, which it doesn’t get enough credit for. I think its opening line—“Indian summer is like a woman…”—is one of the best in mid-20th Century literature. 

One of the great lions of mid-20th-century literature, Irwin Shaw is probably best known for Rich Man, Poor Man, which became television’s first big miniseries. But this book, chronicling the dark glamour of the Cannes Film Festival in 1970, centers on the antihero Jesse Craig, a burned-out film producer trying to regain relevance in an arena that worships the new.

Reading it today, you can’t help but wish that kind of effortless European style and chic still existed. It also contains one of my favorite exchanges in a novel, when a young woman asks Craig, “If you had to do it all over again, would you?” and he responds wearily, “No one gets to do it all over again.” Oh, snap!

Ok, so this is not technically midcentury (it was published in 1977), but I had to include one of those amazing 1970s yarns. I chose this one because I remember reading this as an adolescent and feeling it was sort of like a more adult, sophisticated Nancy Drew book, replete with cliffhangers at the end of each chapter.

This global potboiler, about a beautiful pharmaceutical heiress marked for murder, has enough twists and turns to keep anyone reading way past bedtime. I think it also planted the seed for me to write my own novels of courageous, Grace Kelly-style heroines caught up in the throes of romantic mystery and adventure. 

This book is like nothing I’ve ever read.

Fraimow combines a con-job storyline, a space diaspora setting, a 1920s aesthetic, and an unexpected sapphic romance, and somehow, it all works. I found myself totally immersed in the fragile glitz of New Monte, a kind of Monaco-in-space clinging to a satellite, where debutantes wear breathers as fashion accessories and extravagance masks the threat of scarcity.

And I fell in love with the characters: Ruthi, the cool, competent protagonist with a gift for wisecracks and a tender underside, and Sol, the chivalrous, sharp-suited, hoverbike-riding love interest, who develops from an intriguing antagonist into a fully-rounded human being who is Ruthi’s perfect match.

I like this novel because it is one of the few that I know of that features a blind musician like the protagonist of my novel. Also, I feel that the author offers fine descriptions of jazz piano and jazz music. This book was published in 1965, a turbulent time in America. The author depicts being black as a disability like blindness. I think William Melvin Kelley was an excellent novelist who deserves greater recognition.

My all-time favorite amateur detective is Miss Marple, and if I had to pick a favorite book she is in, it would be this one. I love the idea of a quiet, mostly ignored spinster who most people dismiss being the one character who seems to know exactly what is going on and what people are up to.

I really like the way Miss Marple figures out why the main character thinks she is going mad and proves that she isn’t. In this book, Miss Marple really proves her status as one of the best amateur detectives, and I love it.

I fell in love with Lizzy and Ciaran as they tried to find their way back to each other after over a decade of not speaking. I loved the glamour of the Cannes film festival, which was a backdrop to the very real, human, unglamorous resentments they were harbouring, and I was gripped by the sense of time running out as the festival progressed.

The flashbacks to their time in France when they first met were gripping, and I was swept away by these two completely believable characters but was also caught up in the sizzle between them, and it’s such a funny, heartfelt book too. 

I was totally engrossed in this story about brave, intelligent women in 15th-century China. Yuxian is trained to be a doctor by her grandmother within the constraints of traditional Chinese society. I was amazed by her ability to see past obstacles and challenges. I found myself holding my breath as she was confronted with unbelievable scenarios.

Like Yunxian herself, every woman in her circle, especially her lifelong friend Meiling, finds ways to rise to a higher plane within the limitations of arranged marriages and class prohibitions. Through friendship and purpose, this woman of the Ming dynasty left a remarkable legacy for generations to come.

I love ghost stories. But I am rather tired of old houses with creaky furniture. The strangest and most dangerous monsters lurk in the wilderness, in the remote and inaccessible corners of the natural world. And what is more remote and inaccessible than Kanchenjunga, the third-highest mountain in the world, located on the border between Nepal and India?

I have always admired those mountain climbers of the past who, with inadequate equipment and minimal knowledge, braved the unknown dangers of the heights. Paver’s beautifully written novel is a historical mystery and a ghost story at one, whose final twist is as vertiginous as the pinnacle of the sacred mountain.