100 Books Like House of Pungsu

Another essayist from my book, Ai Jiang, writes a heartbreaking story. I think a lot of us trapped in debt can feel in our core. Ai’s book captures the essence of human connection in a world increasingly dominated by technological advancement and capitalist pursuits.

Despite the sci-fi story, Ai focuses on the human, everyday interactions that truly define our collective experience. She emphasizes the value of the moments we share with those closest to us—our families, friends, and neighbors. Often overlooked in the hustle of getting ahead, these interactions keep a community alive.

A wonderful author and person, her story digs deep into all the feels.

Few books from the Asian perspective are from the Ryukyuan (Okinawan, Shimanchu) pov, but this book accomplishes this with an intricate blend of fantastical storytelling. I wish I’d known Darcy when we were looking for essayists for my book!

A profound exploration of grief and cultural identity, the collection is a tapestry of stories that intertwine language, culture, and the deep impacts of loss. Each narrative—ranging from a scholar in the Ryukyu Islands to a spirit observing the aftermath of her death—left me unable to put the book down.

Including an immigrant who sprouts wings and a journalist witnessing the event, which adds a layer of magical realism that is tender and dear. Representation really does matter, and I am grateful to Darcy Tamayose for taking up her pen.

Don’t let the title put you off! It’s a play on the pronunciation of an island in the Philipines called Siquijor (sounds like “seek ye whore”), but the titular story is still pretty titillating.

Yvette Tan is another of the essayists in my book. Her writing vividly portrays Filipino culture, replete with its myths and legends and drenched in the complexities of human emotion. I appreciate that Tan didn’t just make another horror collection; it's a lens through which the rich tapestry of Filipino life, with its blend of the mundane and the magical, is explored.

The collection is a good pick for those who enjoy horror with a cultural twist. This book gives a panoramic and multifaceted experience of Filipino life with which I was unfamiliar.

I have read this book by Alma Katsu three times now. About the often-forgotten period in US history where American citizens of Japanese and Okinawan blood were locked up in internment camps, Alma does a fabulous job of telling the story without picking sides.

From an Asian-mixed family myself, I could see aspects of my relationship with my mother mixed in the story. A brilliant blend of historical events and elements of Japanese folklore, Alma’s skillful storytelling not only entertains but also educates, shedding light on a dark period in American history when the humanity of certain groups was unjustly questioned because of their race.

This book is more than just a dark story; it explores identity, demonization, and the human spirit's resilience. 

Probably the grandmother of all decluttering books, this book, like all great books, is so deep and yet so simple. She has some great practical tips for de-cluttering, such as using a ‘transit’ box for things that go in other rooms so you don’t have to keep getting up and end up getting distracted; as well as some expansive interpretations of de-cluttering, like clear out old relationships. As an organizer, I realize that almost everything a person needs to know about de-cluttering Kingston put down on paper in 1998. 

From the first page of this book, it feels like I’m having coffee with a wise mama friend, and we are discussing all the beautiful aspects of the motherhood journey that you don’t seem to hear or read about anywhere else.

Gaddis is not only honest and medically accurate in a lot of what she shares, but as a doula, she comes from a place of empathetic understanding and compassion and weaves this book with humour, joy, and softness you cannot quite explain.

It is the perfect read to settle the spirit of a new mother in your life or your pregnant bestie who seems to be overwhelmed by the process. It certainly calmed many of my own worries!

I’ve owned a number of homes. Most were small, one or two were fairly large. When I set about building my own writing shed I had a clue where to begin, but most frequently—when bashing a nail, jigsawing a piece of wood—I knew very little about why I was making one decision over another much beyond practical considerations. A window could only fit here, and the door must swing this way, lest it hit that support beam. Having a companion to that process, letting not my hammer but the Earth fine-tune my space gave that writing shed life far beyond its function.

Why does an intelligent young woman who is ambitious to occupy a place of her own in the world collaborate with men, in this instance, a husband, in constructing a life that is “perfectly organized unto death?” The story, you say, is a familiar one. What makes Ernaux’s different and painful to read is her narrator’s awareness of her gradual surrender (that of Ernaux herself) to patriarchal expectations, regardless of how strenuously she would deny them, delay their satisfaction, struggle to follow her passion (for teaching and writing), and, in ever-increasing panic, remind herself that even Virginia Woolf baked pies. By what deception does she come to accept that her existence is a purposeful one, knowing that it has been arranged by others?

This abnegation to the reductive role of womb and breast is all the stranger in this book (part novel, part memoir, part sociological study) because only in… show more.

I absolutely adore Lucy Strange’s books and her latest one, Sisters of the Lost Marsh, is a gloriously Gothic mystery with sisterhood at its centre. The story is about a family of six sisters reigned over by their tyrannical father. When one of the sisters goes missing, 12-year-old Willa decides to take matters into her own hands and uncover what happened. This book is a beautiful blend of mystery, folktale, and feminism and one I simply could not put down.