58 Books Like Ladies in Black

Friendly tip: I do not recommend reading this novel while isolated from your family due to travel and illness, because this book hits hard in all the right ways.

It invites both the protagonist and the reader to explore the deepest wells of regret and the branching infinities that our life choices produce. In doing so, the novel beautifully confronts the seductive lure of “what could have been” while reminding us of the quiet beauty in what is.

As someone whose mind is often lost in the past or gazing into the future, this ultimate lesson of the book provided a much-needed sense of clarity.

Deliciously Scottish with sparky dialogue that had me laughing out loud.

The characters are all flawed, making mistakes I can identify with. I find relationships difficult at times, and this book was reassuringly familiar—like I wasn't "the only one". I also love the wee boy Bertie and his desperate need not to hurt anyone, a familiar feeling I could relate to, and found myself forgiving the "pushover” in me.

Deborah's characters struggle with the disappointments of getting older with a bittersweet humor that I found comforting.

Just shy of the "pensioner age" myself, I can relate to the loneliness and regret of lost dreams experienced by the characters. I was captivated by her storytelling. I felt like I was there, and that I not only knew the characters but shared their feelings when alone.  

I was asked to do some storytelling for children, then regretted accepting until I found this book. Born in Australia but now living in Scotland, I miss the humor I grew up with.

This fantastic children's book gave me the confidence to "go all out," lose my rigid upbringing, and allow the little girl in me to tell the story as she had not only been forbidden to do but made to feel ashamed that she wanted to.

Corris and his protagonist, the hard-scrabble private detective Cliff Hardy, are quintessentially Australian. The Dying Trade introduces Cliff (smoker, drinker, ex-boxer) and sets the standard for all the books that follow in this series. It’s dry and laconic, with a wonderful sense of place (a very gritty 1980s Sydney). There’s a definite nod to the greats— Chandler and Hammett in this series; you know Cliff Hardy probably shouldn’t take this job, it’s odds-on he’ll cop a beating along the way, possible he’ll find love and lose it again. I enjoy the author’s economy with words and the moral complexity of his characters. If you like hard-boiled crime, this series is worth a look!

*Note: Sydney is much nicer than it may seem when you walk in Corris’s shoes!

This story consumed me and I could not put the book down. I would wake up in the middle of the night to read more of it. As an avid reader, I have books that I liked, books that I loved, and then I have a list of books that are riveting and that speak to my soul. Those are the books I reread and think about often. This book was saved under that last list. Watching Oliver interact with everyone after the ordeal he went through was soul-shattering. Seeing Sydney be a source of comfort, patience and a well of overflowing love to him was just beautiful. Hartmann even made me feel emotions for someone I thought I would initially hate, but ended up feeling bad for at the end of the book. She is a magician with words. That’s why it is a top pick for me for… show more.

Any book that starts with an impulsive decision is bound to engage someone like me who doesn’t like to plan much before a journey. With his Australian visa shortly to expire and his relationship going the same way, Nathan, aged twenty-nine doesn’t do the sensible thing and fly back home to the UK. Instead, he buys a potentially unsuitable decommissioned postal delivery 105cc Honda "Postie" motorbike. He names it Dorothy and starts the homeward journey from Sydney to London. I found his story riveting as, like me, he finds delight in the simpleness of life on the road and in meeting local people and other travellers.

I bet he’s glad he didn’t get that flight home!

I loved being immersed in this story, where I could potentially be the protagonist myself and walk in her shoes. The book grabbed me from the start, as I felt the pain and pleasure of the protagonist’s life situation. The imagery was vivid, and the characters' dialogue was very believable.

This book captured a slice of life and brought me along with it in a palpable ride of a bewitching come-on. Along the way, the climax beckoned beyond belief until the stunning conclusion. Just wow.

Eben Venter, though born in the heart of the South African ‘platteland’ (the South African equivalent of ‘fly-over country’), has spent much of his adult life in Australia, and the novel poignantly straddles the two locales: the constricting conservatism of the protagonist’s farm background, and the bewildering freedoms and opportunities of a more cosmopolitan setting. Here that conflict is heartbreakingly acted out and in a grim sense resolved in the main character’s losing battle against AIDS, and his death-bed reconciliation with his hitherto unbending father. Venter gives us a harrowing account of what it is like to die of a disease that wastes your body, blinds you, and makes you mad before killing you. It is all the more remarkable that the experience is registered from the inside, as it were, in a subjective stream of consciousness. The poignancy of the novel is intensified for me by knowing that the… show more.

I don’t often read books more than once, but this one I have, and I know I will read it again. The woman whose life is revealed this time is 70-year-old Nora Porteous. She has returned to her native Brisbane, Australia after having escaped it by marriage to Sydney, and having escaped that marriage to London. She now reflects wryly on how she developed throughout those years of hardship and joy as she also experiences the changes in the neighbourhood she ran from decades before. As we move through both her memories of the past and her experience of the present, the details that help us to understand her are extraordinary: ‘The man is unlocking the door. I have had to talk and smile too much in his car, and as I wait I consciously rest my face.’