Books like Ghosts of New York — picked by fans

This quiet, unsettling book was written over a decade ago but still feels so topical and urgent that it might have been published today. In a German city, dozens of African migrants living on the street stage a hunger strike for the right to work. Richard, a widowed academic in bored retirement goes to meet them, and gets involved.

I recalled my own impulses to activism and charity as a kid and now— my curiosity to understand other people's plight, compulsion to help, and perhaps guilt that, in comparison, my own problems are negligible.

Richard is motivated by morality, a search for meaning, and a desire for connection and shared action. I've been there, too, and like him, I've learned that friendships can sour and good intentions go wrong.

This book approaches change and displacement in a completely different way.

It is not a traditional journey, and that is what makes it stand out. I found myself reflecting on how quickly life can shift, and how people adapt even when everything around them changes. It captures uncertainty, but also a quiet resilience that often goes unnoticed. That stayed with me.

I was captivated by the central relationship, a love affair between two grunt soldiers in World War I. That's quite unlikely, but it hints at a positive outcome or dangles a thread of something hopeful. And that kept me hooked through the decades-long saga of war, displacement, exile, and loss from Europe across the Middle East to China—in a refugee caravan, on foot!—ending in the present, in Israel.

Hemon, an immigrant to the U.S. from Sarajevo, writes in English, his second language, which, for me as a writer, makes this kaleidoscopic story an even more dazzling achievement. He's playful with language, too, not unlike Joyce. And playful with the possible; there's magic realism, but with a light touch. An all-time fave. I'm going to read it again.

Set in Dublin in what could be the present—though it could be any city in a liberal democracy and any time in the coming years—this is a frighteningly believable story of the arrival and imposition of fascism. The focus is on one normal suburban family whose first response is to shrug. They think, "It doesn't concern us," but slowly, and then sometimes in quick shocks, it does.

The writing is understated. But the description of an incremental, daily drip-drip of tightening repression almost made me feel short of breath. There is no happy ending. It's not escape reading—more a cautionary tale.

Another friendly rodent tale with a clever premise! I read this long before there was ever a movie about Stuart. Once again, the author’s imagination amazed me. I was enchanted with all the clever things Stuart could do – his car, his canoe, his friendship with Margalo the bird, and the humans that accepted him as part of their family.

I remember bringing the library book to my grandmother’s house when I spent the weekend. I don’t think the book was out of my grasp except when I was sleeping. And even then, I was dreaming of being a writer and “living” in a world like Stuart’s. 

Don’t be fooled by the cover, The Masterpiece is an excellent dual-timeline about two seemingly ordinary women fighting for their independence in the same place, yet from two distinct time periods.

In 1928 Clara, a confident illustrator and art instructor and in 1974 Virginia, a recently divorced tollbooth operator, found themselves working at New York City’s Grand Central Terminal.

Davis brilliantly braids both stories about complicated flawed women challenging social injustices and entitled men of their time within a fascinating setting. (Yes, 50 years apart and they're dealing with similar issues!)

I stayed up late discovering how their stories coincide once Virginia uncovered a painting by Clara. Talk about unknown history—who knew there was an art school upstairs in the Grand Central Terminal or that it was almost demolished?!

I was intrigued by the magical abilities in the “Hands” of each one of the three protagonists in this book. Tamara uses her hands for tarot readings to tell people’s futures, while Phyllis’s hands have a super-power strength for knife-throwing, and Dev has “Saint’s Hands” have a sort of spidey-sense, helping his work as a police spy.

I was intrigued by Tamara’s tarot readings as part of this crime story, with the weaving in of black people’s stories of trauma, the double-edged sword of passing for white, and Juju assassins. This alternate history is a nebula of magic, criminals, and an exploration of how love heals people.

This book was the 2021 Winner of the World Fantasy Award. It was an unexpected winner, but I can see how Johnson’s gritty writing pulled people in. Trigger warning: if you have nerves about reading about knives as weapons, you may want to… show more.

Eriq La Salle is best known for his role as Dr. Peter Benton on the hit TV show ER, but Laws of Depravity shows that he’s a magnificent writer as well as a prolific actor.

I have read a lot of crime fiction, yet Laws of Depravity stopped me cold and made me question whether “the killing of devils is a condemnable act.” Growing up a preacher’s kid, I’m fascinated by the ways people use religion as an explanation or shield for both wonderful and terrible acts.

Lasalle doesn’t shy away from looking at the darker side, and that made me brave enough to take a closer look in my own work. La Salle has delivered a highly character-driven book that profiles the detectives and civilians as much as the killer while still maintaining that thrilling pace. Every morally gray twist felt earned, and the surprises kept coming right up… show more.

I love how the lives of different people intersect during the summer in this book. Unexpected romance, well-meaning lies, and damaging secrets pepper this story, making it the perfect page turner during a summer vacation.

I also love that one of the characters is a baker. I just love stories that marry food and cooking into the story.

Vera and Eden are devoted sisters. One of them has an illegitimate baby.

The book is allegedly devoted to telling the story of how Vera came to kill Eden, but in telling this story it also attempts to determine which one of them is the baby’s mother.

In doing both of these, however, it also details the ways in which people, even people who seem to be devoted to each other, can make each other’s lives miserable, and can choose to make their own lives miserable. 

Vine (aka. Ruth Rendell) is, of course the mistress of psychological suspense, and for me this is the best book she ever wrote.