100 Books Like Inkheart

This is a retelling of the classic fairy tale, and it’s a world that I love to disappear into year after year. East challenged me to see beyond the surface of my circumstances and gave a glimpse of the treasure that was only waiting for me to have the eyes to see it. It’s the book that convinced me that the reality of grief wasn’t the end of my family’s story.

This is a wonderful blend of magic, history, and romance that completely swept me away. I loved how Harkness created a world where science and magic coexist, and the way she weaves historical references into a modern love story stole my heart.

The relationship between Diana and Matthew feels real, complicated, and deeply emotional, and I found myself fully invested in their journey. What really hooked me was the rich world-building, with its intricate details of witches, vampires, and daemons, making it feel like a universe I could dive into again and again. This is an annual reread for me. Book 1 in a wonderful series.

This was the first fantasy recommendation I ever got from my dad. He saw me taking an interest in stories with castles, knights, wizards, and kings and knew just the book from his favorite author to put in my hands.

I hadn’t had any experience with Stephen King before this, and I found that his prose was friendly and familiar to me; the story itself is good, a solid entry into the genre, and I found the intrigues of the villain to be the most interesting part of the story. It turns out that the King (ha) of horror can write a fine fantasy story, too.

Want to laugh out loud? Then read The Princess Bride. I’m sure you’ve seen the classic movie version, but you owe it to yourself to go back to the source material by William Goldman. I never knew a book could be so funny!

The narrative stretches the boundaries of storytelling, taking the reader down a path that is touching, scary, and hilarious in turns. I loved the absurdist characters. I loved even more Goldman’s clear, comic voice throughout.

Framed by a scholarly appraisal of an actual archaic text, this novel, in verse, proceeds to tell a story of love, from boyhood to death.

It’s the story, amazingly, of a monster, a mythic creature with wings and red skin, but you forget about the myth when you’re reading. And you forget about poetry. Or you wonder, what’s the difference between poetry and a beautiful narrative of longing, of heartbreak, of hope and friendship and family ties, and when you get to the end of the life of this kid, which, like all our lives, is a story of love, you feel you understand a little more clearly what it is. 

I wrote my undergrad thesis on the migration of visual tropes from traditional Japanese theatre (Noh, Bunraku, and Kabuki) into modern art forms (Manga, Anime, Supakabuki/Anime Musicals), which was a rigorous exercise because I couldn’t just compare the tropes—I had to spend hours explaining them to my advisor. It was a fascinating (sometimes exasperating) lesson in learning to read one visual vocabulary, only to have to explain it to someone else in terms that they understood using another.

This blurred-xerox-translation-of-a-translation exercise is the central theme of Mangaman, where a Shojou-esque protagonist falls from a fantastical manga world into a comic. Visual conventions clash, where he walks the wrong way across panels, and where his speed lines accidentally stab people in the school hallway.

A gentler, kinder version of Inkheart and The Untold Tale, this novel is still thrilling. I love the idea of consuming a book as literally as we do figuratively. In this one, our protagonist absentmindedly eats a page out of his favourite bedtime story and wakes up inside it. He has to hop from story to story to get home, crossing through his sister’s horse books and many an adventure before making it safe to his own bed. I think it’s totally charming.

Though not a book, the film starring Will Ferrell and Emma Thompson borrowed heavily from "Niebla" by Miguel de Unamuno, a Spanish novel about a character who becomes aware he is being narrated by a writer and goes to visit the writer. This film lives rent-free in my heart because the style of self-awareness that Ferrell’s character experiences in this film is close to the way I conceived of the meta-awareness of the characters Forsyth and Kintyre in The Untold Tale. I love the idea of someone learning they are being puppeteered and breaking free of the expected, the prescribed, and the narrative laid out for them. Maybe that’s why I like the film The Truman Show so much, too.

I was quickly captivated by the story of Princess Ani and her magical gift of animal speak. I related to her insecurity of being an outcast, feeling different, and finding refuge within the natural world. Her fast-paced story engages with both colorful and menacing characters as she confronts parental conflict, loss, betrayal, and true love.

Inspirational to read as she faced these challenging obstacles and evolved into self-acceptance, realizing that her differences and gifts were actually her greatest allies. This story explores bonds to animals and nature, parental conflict, betrayal, determination, insecurities around being different, acceptance, and listening to one’s inner voice.

This is my all-time favorite of the Twilight series. The fantasy in this book was mystical, and I did not put the book down. I wanted to know more about Edward and how he eventually expressed his love for Isabella.

The descriptions in the book really allowed your imagination to flow. The love expressed between two people was to die for.