100 Books Like Grown

This book is an awesome locked-room thriller about six teens who are invited to a dinner and find themselves trapped in a room with a bomb, a syringe filled with poison, and a note with instructions that they have to decide who among them to kill within the next hour or they’ll all be murdered.

There’s something about close-proximity thrillers that gets me every single time. As a person who is definitely not a big fan of enclosed spaces in real life, these types of books have me breathless.

I recommend this book as often as I can. Edgier and more disturbing than the film adaptation, Heller’s novel offers not one but two women doing terrible things.

Sheba is the art instructor hiding her illicit meetings with a student and running around like a teenager in what must be one of recent literature’s more reprehensible midlife crises. Barbara is the cynical older woman, the veteran teacher with a busy schedule and a barren personal life.

Sheba appeals to Barbara as a friend, to keep her secret. Barbara responds with feigned concern, then with affection, desire, jealousy, and a malicious desire to control Sheba, to jerk her chain and watch her dance. For sheer emotional power dynamics between two women, this book is hard to beat.

It’s rare that I find a book that plunges me so deeply into the psychology of a character.

Grace is the protagonist of Alias Grace. She’s cunning. She’s bold. She’s possibly a murderess. The most fascinating aspect of Grace to me is that she is based on a real-life character from Canada in the mid-1800s.

Throughout the whole book, I kept wondering about her—not just the fictional character, but the real one too—was this what she was really thinking? Was this how she really behaved?

I found her voice in the novel to be absolutely undeniable. You want to believe everything she says, but at the same time, you mistrust her...

Next, we have a true standout in YA—a novel that arguably revolutionized the mystery genre for teen readers.

While mysteries have long been a staple in YA literature, in my view, this book sparked a new age. This novel, now adapted into a popular Netflix series, firmly established YA mystery as a force to be reckoned with, largely thanks to its clever twist.

Taut, scandalous, and enthralling, this book exemplifies the blame game genre.

The Cocktail Waitress is the last work of total master James M. Cain, posthumously published in 2014. I started this on a hike and did not stop listening until it was done, netting me quite a bit of cardio. This firsthand explanation of a tabloid murder scandal, as told by its prime suspect, is often hilarious, surprisingly feminist, and darkly sinister. As the titular waitress innocently recalls meeting and marrying a much older millionaire and his baffling demise soon after, it’s clear she’s lying through her teeth. But deducing how and why is the fun of the book. Still, the ending is a gut punch. My book hangover was a solid 72 hours (could’ve been the hike though). 

I’m fascinated by the Manson family; my big bad in my book is essentially doing a Charlie impression, so I’ve read a lot about America’s Boogeyman. This autobiography stands out from the crowd because of its absolutely bonkers voice. Every trigger warning in the world applies, but there are two worthwhile aspects to this lurid tale: one, how much institutional violence created Manson, who spent his adolescence and young adult life in the penal system (when they released him at 32 he begged to stay in jail.) And two, how the charismatic “family” could easily pass for some carefree Instagram influencers these days.  

I love everything Sara Shepard does.

The story kicks off with Emma, a kind-hearted foster kid, discovering she has an identical twin sister named Sutton, who was adopted by a wealthy family. When Emma agrees to meet Sutton, she's shocked to learn that Sutton has mysteriously disappeared, and she's expected to step into Sutton’s life until she returns. What starts as a simple case of mistaken identity quickly spirals into a compelling mystery as Emma immerses herself in Sutton’s world, uncovering secrets and lies at every turn.

What really draws me to this book is its layered storytelling. As Emma digs deeper into the life of her sister, she encounters the dangerous game that Sutton and her friends played—a game all about deceit and cruel pranks. Shepard masterfully intertwines the suspense of the investigation with the drama of high school life, making each character’s motives murky and adding to the… show more.

This book is thought-provoking and I love how the author switches it up and keeps it interesting through her use of different story-telling devices including text messages, police interviews, and diary entries.

This inspired me in my own writing because of how much I appreciated it as a reader. This riveting novel has a quick pace and I found it original. I was fascinated by the fact that everyone’s perspective on the murder of a teenaged boy is included—except for his girlfriend’s—the one who was accused of killing him. 

Bailey originated the term “misogynoir” in 2008 to describe, she writes, “the anti-Black racist misogyny that Black women experience, particularly in US visual and digital culture.” The controlling image of the “Mammy” has long been a hyper-visible, toxic presence in this milieu. In this book, Bailey examines the digital resistance and social media-based activisms of Black women—particularly queer and trans women—who seize representational power to dismantle the distorting stereotypes, expose their systemic impacts, and make spaces for telling their own diverse, gendered Black stories and enable others to do so as well. Throughout, Bailey makes clear that cultural representations have material, life-and-death effects, but also the capacity to create new and better worlds.

Because the buying and selling of enslaved people was enormously profitable and entirely legal in the United States before the Civil War, even free Black people lived in fear that they might be kidnapped, sold illegally as slaves, and never heard from by their friends and families again. Though many Americans are familiar with the experience of Solomon Northup, as relayed in his memoir Twelve Years a Slave and the film of the same name, Richard Bell demonstrates how kidnapping was widespread in the nineteenth century and how thin the line could be between freedom and slavery.