Books like Hygiene and the Assassin — picked by fans

This is my all-time favourite book.

I own two physical copies – one paperback and a special edition hardback that released for a recent anniversary. It’s Stephen King’s debut, but you wouldn’t know it since he was already so comfortable with his writing and understanding his voice. I love that the story isn’t told through conventional means but using news reports and journals.

Carrie White is a character I can relate to, not because I secretly have powers – I don’t, I promise – but because she is the oddball, the type of person who doesn’t fit in. She’s the exaggerated poster child of why bullying is bad, but the book holds one very special message at its core – what does it cost to be nice?

Carrie is shown throughout as this sweet and simple girl who longs for connection, and we see the slow breakdown of her character… show more.

When the world ends, who will you turn to? For me, I’d turn to someone like Kainene in this book. Kainene isn’t beautiful, doesn’t play by the ridiculous rules of the feminine mystique, and is righteously bitter about a lot of things in her life. She’s also a guileless straight shooter people can count on, to tell the truth in any situation. That truth is never sugar-coated; it’s exactly what the characters in her life need to hear.

I love the bravery of her choice to keep her innermost thoughts private. I admire how steadfast she holds on to her commitment to what she believes will be a better future.

Coming of age, to me, is in part about recognising that the adult world to which you’ve entrusted your childhood is not what it claimed to be: that adults can be fallible, weak, morally culpable, emotionally absent.

Giovanna in The Lying Life of Adults embarks on the same kind of desperate, determined effort to weld her family back together that Scott does in my book. The way she tries to navigate parental failure without letting it crush her is achingly sad at times, but the novel is also loud and raw and full of life.

Something I like hugely is that it’s a book which really trusts its readers: Giovanna gets no clear answers, no neat character arc. Nothing is tidy or comfortable. This is adolescence as it really feels. 

I really resonate with the main character of this book because the author maintains her humanity while making her the hero of the story.

Jaele is allowed to be angry, sad, brave, grief-stricken, optimistic, pessimistic, and every other feeling under the sun while she’s on her quest; she’s not confined to the constant heroic stoicism you get from, say, Jedis or Elves. At one point in the book (my favorite part, actually), she admits that she’s resentful of her grief. I love when stories allow their characters to show their ugly sides.  

I first encountered Evelyn Waugh’s classic novel Scoop in a backpacker guesthouse in Kowloon in 1987. Some traveler had left it behind, and I read it insatiably, cover to cover, and then started again from the beginning. It was even more hilarious and bitingly satirical on the second read and is the one book I’d take along were I banished to a desert island where luggage allowance was severely restricted.

First published in 1938, Scoop delivers a timeless and elegant roasting of the profession of journalism and self-important foreign correspondents. I have to admit–up to a point–that the bumbling exploits of William Boot, the book’s reluctant protagonist, played more than a small role in my own decision to both pick up a camera and put pen to paper!

What I love about this book is the journey it takes you on, from despair to hope. At the start of the book, Mark is at the height of anguish with his depression. You read about what he did to start his recovery process; what worked and what didn’t, what he did wrong and what he got right. It gives you hope that you can make a similar journey and hope is the antidote to depression because it’s the main thing it takes from you, so it’s the main thing you need to find and cling on to; even the smallest amount of hope helps.

These letters of Franz Kafka to his Czech translator Milena are not formally a novel but in its essence the love novel, none of his novels were. He wrote them 1920-1923, being ill with tuberculosis as he was visiting different sanatoriums in Germany and Czechoslovakia and she was living in Vienna in an unhappy marriage. As they only saw each other shortly three times it forms a love by letters story of burning love transforming itself into misunderstandings and conflict. Their value lies in the genial Kafka’s trying and succeeding in communicating something incommunicable about how it is to be in love accounting totally honestly for his vast complexity of emotions from the utmost passion and longing to the state of fear of being rejected. A great inspiration to me for my novel in writing about Kafka.

It’s not often you read the opening chapter of a novel (in this case the Prologue) and go back to read it again before continuing with the rest of the novel because you’ve never read anything like it before. And the book just gets better from there. Combine an African culling song with a tortured journalist investigating crib deaths and a heroine real estate agent who sells haunted houses, then put that all in the hands of Chuck Palahniuk, and you have a supernatural horror dark comedy/satire unlike anything you’ll ever read. Except maybe another Chuck Palahniuk novel. After reading this, I was inspired to write Breathers.

The first time I read David Rosenfelt’s Andy Carpenter series, I immediately thought that Groucho Marx had moved to North Jersey, gone into law, and adopted a rescue dog. Rosenfelt’s reluctant lawyer hero goes at his oddball cases with a collection of even odder associates. Dry, witty, and a little self-effacing, Rosenfelt’s style brings to life a cast of characters that made me reluctant to put his books down. I started the series with the third book, Bury the Lead, first but quickly caught up. The first book in the series is Open and Shut. Mystery and animal lovers will find a place in their heart and funny bone.

Gonzo journalism meets Tartan Noir as Iain Banks ventures into crime. A journalist who’s a big fan of all the bad stuff seems to have a link to a killer picking off members of the establishment.

The second-person narration follows the killer, an unusual stylistic flourish. The answers to the horror lie within, and this book goes to some unbearably dark places. (In theory, The Crow Road is also a murder mystery.)