100 Books Like Hit Man

My son’s a young adult now, but I treasure the memories of the hours we spent reading together. We went down all the well-trodden paths and shared countless joyful hours with J.K. Rowling and Dav Pilkey and The Mysterious Benedict Society, but the creativity of this book is exceeded only by its humor. Also, it clocks in at around 700 pages, so it’ll entertain you and your children for a good while. I always enjoy a laugh as a reader, and if my work elicits a chuckle from you, then I feel my mission is complete.

This notorious 1969 Roth novel is a monologue of a self-loathing and sexually repressed Jewish man to his psychologist.

He recounts in excruciating detail his efforts to escape his parents’ interference in his life and his lifelong obsession with bedding a "shiksa" (non-Jewish woman). Portnoy’s rants are brilliant, vulgar, and entertaining – though the cultural references are dated and female readers might become incensed at the demeaning descriptions of “Monkey” (the shiksa he finally beds).

In a story I wrote, a man facetiously asks his female friend whether Carrie Bradshaw’s neuroticism and sexual dalliances would make her the “female Portnoy.” Both are insightful, emotionally needy, and charming characters. Behind this novel’s sexual humor is a complex portrait of a man trapped by his own obsessions.

I was surprised to learn that John Hersey won a Pulitzer Prize in 1945 for a novel—in fact, his first. I had always thought of him as mainly a journalist for The New Yorker. One of my students recommended this. He was the grandson of the model for the main character, an Italian-American US Army major. My student was proud of his “nonnu,” the Allied military governor of a Sicilian village, for his efforts to help the starving villagers.

What they wanted more than food, though, was to replace the church bell that Mussolini had requisitioned to melt down and make into weapons. Spoiler alert: in the novel (and in real life), he succeeds—despite opposition from a superior officer, a thinly disguised General George S. Patton.

I’m both inspired and depressed by this book. Yes, the book itself is on the depressing side, but what truly saddens me about it is that I’ll never write as well as Richard Yates. He packs so much into this 57,000-word work that it almost defies logic. Still, he’s an inspiration as a writer, and I will always use him as a guidepost. No one’s ever going to confuse me with Michael Jordan, either, but I’m still going to shoot hoops (poorly) in my driveway.

Moonflower Murders shows what can be done at the boundary between genre and literary fiction. This is a writer at the top of his form with twisty plotting, mellifluous prose, and the sheer joy of storytelling. Realistic? No. But that’s not the point. This is an insane murder mystery within a murder mystery. A sequel to Magpie Murders, it features retired publisher Susan Ryeland, who now runs a small hotel on a Greek island. But running a small hotel on a Greek island isn’t for everyone, and Susan is beginning to miss her old life in London.

She is pushed into returning when two of her guests inform her that their newlywed daughter had been in dangerous proximity to a murder back home and had now gone missing – hours after reading a murder mystery Susan herself had edited in her old life. The book holds the key to… show more.

This book is perfect in every way.

As a writer, I find it scarily good. Not only does it have a compelling plot that kept me turning pages, but it’s sooo beautifully written, with unique, complex characters and a story that bends and twists through their lives, surprising me over and over.

Like all good gothic fiction, it includes a decaying mansion, mysterious disappearances, an eccentric old lady, stories within stories, and it also has twins!

Yes, I’m suggesting reading the fourth volume of the epic Dark Tower saga first.

Typically, medieval-ish fantasy isn’t my thing, but in Stephen King’s hands, the world simply sucks you in. It’s commonly cited as one of King’s best works for a reason.

Caveat: While this book is largely a standalone 700-page flashback to the main character’s younger days, you could skip the first 70 pages, resolving the previous book’s cliffhanger before the story within a story kicks in. But it might also be fun to arrive en medias res to read the resolution and spend a three-book flashback figuring out how you got there.

You can’t read all 7.5 Dark Tower books out of order, but dropping out of the timeline for this one is worthwhile.

My selections are based on good writing and authenticity, even Fleming peppered his Bond books with elements of the real thing that no one but insiders would know, like ‘M’ writing his memos in green ink on blue notepaper. Alan Judd who served as a British army officer before joining MI6 has written a series of books about Charles Thoroughgood, a former army officer who like Judd himself ‒ his real name is Alan Petty ‒ then joined MI6. Every one of them is a gem, reeking of authenticity. A former colleague of Judd even told me that one of his books was based on a real case. He knew because he shared an office with the author at the time! Judd is by far the best of the current bunch!

The best way to start a list about books that are part of bigger universes is to start with a book about building universes! The ambiance of this book, the intrigue, and the worldbuilding! Oh my goodness, the worldbuilding! Tie-in novels often get a bad rap, so one can be forgiven for thinking that this book might not be great because it’s based on a video game. But the story of the D’ni civilization that literally crafts worlds with their words that they write in magical books speaks to my author’s soul.

Something that I feel is necessary for a universe to have weight is that there must be an appropriate cost for everything that happens, and every choice that the characters make must follow Newton’s Third Law of Motion (for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction). This is reflected so beautifully in the way Atrus learns… show more.

You don’t have to travel far for very bad things to happen to you, as the main characters in this book discover when they ignore local warnings about fishing in a nearby creek. I consider this a masterwork in any genre, and I’m actually re-reading it right now, even though it kinda broke me the first time. 

It’s a Lovecraftian, cosmic horror story that also creates a kind of allegory for grief. Having lost my parents in my late twenties, it felt like a fantastical yet unnervingly accurate reflection of the experience.