100 Books Like Lungbarrow

I loved the main character, the beautifully named Saffron Everleigh. She’s a woman in 1923 London, trying to make her way in academia at a time when women weren’t usually allowed in the doors.

Her scientific interests and studies in botany come in handy when she attends a dinner party for the school, and a professor’s wife drops to the floor, poisoned by an unknown substance. Working with the equally passionate, ahem, Alexander Ashton, a fellow researcher, Saffron must investigate the murder or wind up next on the murderer's list. There are two more books in this series, so we are lucky to spend more time with our plucky heroine.

The choices Forugh Farrokhzad made shocked me at times, which made the story even more compelling. This Iranian poet broke my heart with her desperation to live her life true to herself. I’m gutted by the fact that in another country, Forugh wouldn’t have needed to make such drastic choices to be a poet and a woman with dreams and needs.

Listening to the story read by Mozhan Marno, a favorite actress of mine, magnified the intensity of the story. Feminism takes many forms and is highly impacted by our surroundings. This story made me dig deep into how far I’d push my personal boundaries for what I believe in. I will read anything Jasmin Dapzink publishes.

This book is like nothing I’ve ever read.

Fraimow combines a con-job storyline, a space diaspora setting, a 1920s aesthetic, and an unexpected sapphic romance, and somehow, it all works. I found myself totally immersed in the fragile glitz of New Monte, a kind of Monaco-in-space clinging to a satellite, where debutantes wear breathers as fashion accessories and extravagance masks the threat of scarcity.

And I fell in love with the characters: Ruthi, the cool, competent protagonist with a gift for wisecracks and a tender underside, and Sol, the chivalrous, sharp-suited, hoverbike-riding love interest, who develops from an intriguing antagonist into a fully-rounded human being who is Ruthi’s perfect match.

I’ve long been fascinated by the mysteries of the Anasazi, or the Pueblo Dwellers of southwestern Utah. How and why did a thriving culture of literally thousands of people who had built stone buildings into cliff faces suddenly and inexplicably disappear? Having read numerous books by archaeologists on the subject, I was really no closer to an answer. But when Preston and Child wrote a novel, a combination of adventure, tech thriller, and mythology, I was completely on board.

Archaeologist Nora Kelly’s father disappeared without a trace 16 years earlier in the remote desert, searching for the legendary Quivira, a city of gold and wonder, the lost city of the Anasazi Indians. Pulling together a team, using some NASA satellite research to find a starting place, Nora leads a team into the desolate canyonlands in search of the city—only to find extraordinary mythology, life-threatening natural events, and a deadly, dangerous… show more.

A year or so ago, I read a lot of factual books about India, so I was delighted to find this Golden Age cozy mystery set in a land I was falling in love with through books. This book took me back to a pre-partition India still under British rule, with a realistic glimpse of life under colonialism alongside a hefty–hopefully less realistic–dose of murder and mystery.

I adored how Harini Nagendra created a strong, independent female character who still feels genuine and believable in the time and place in which the book is set–a time when most women were stifled, submissive, and governed by their husbands–and how the observations of colonization feel true to life while remaining both sympathetic and observant to the Indian culture and ways of life.

The setting is vividly portrayed, and the sights and sounds of 1920s India are an absolute delight. The main characters… show more.

This is not a how-to book. It’s a series of essays written by a really smart and funny guy about something at which he excels: writing fiction.

He offers great advice, often with his tongue planted firmly in cheek. His essay on rewriting is titled Washing Garbage. His essay on getting to the finish line is titled Do It Anyway. His great advice: “Give yourself permission to write badly.” I like to have it on my bedside table for leavening those moments when I take myself too seriously.

These 3 continuous comics from 1966 (Fantastic Four #48-50) were a master class in creativity for me, even before I started out as an artist.

I grew up an avid collector of Marvel comics in the 60s, in Taiwan, where they were not for sale anywhere, and I had to scrounge and search the streets of Taipei for used copies.

I accumulated a massive collection that I later sold for a Martin guitar. These 3 continuous comics from 1966 were a master class in creativity for me even before I started out as an artist.

They taught me: how to tell a story brilliantly; how to embed a twist in the inner core of the story: the villain Galactus, who has the power to destroy Earth, is just another guy who is tending to his needs – he is hungry, and Earth can provide a meal for him. Wow. What… show more.

I was totally engrossed in this story about brave, intelligent women in 15th-century China. Yuxian is trained to be a doctor by her grandmother within the constraints of traditional Chinese society. I was amazed by her ability to see past obstacles and challenges. I found myself holding my breath as she was confronted with unbelievable scenarios.

Like Yunxian herself, every woman in her circle, especially her lifelong friend Meiling, finds ways to rise to a higher plane within the limitations of arranged marriages and class prohibitions. Through friendship and purpose, this woman of the Ming dynasty left a remarkable legacy for generations to come.

I’m most impressed by the fact that the author, a white American, did meticulous research into Chinese mythology and Daoist practices. The kungfu fight scenes are also arresting.   

Xian Li-Lin, a plucky Daoist priestess with superior martial arts skills who is bent on forging her own way in a male-dominated world of 19th century San Francisco Chinatown, charmed me from the start of the novel (which is a sequel but can be read as a standalone). Beset with personal challenges as a lonely Chinese widow with a harsh father, she still takes it upon herself to fend helpless immigrants from the perils of ghosts, evil spirits, and gangsters.

I like this novel because it is one of the few that I know of that features a blind musician like the protagonist of my novel. Also, I feel that the author offers fine descriptions of jazz piano and jazz music. This book was published in 1965, a turbulent time in America. The author depicts being black as a disability like blindness. I think William Melvin Kelley was an excellent novelist who deserves greater recognition.