Books like None of This is True

This recommendation list is a celebration of these authors’ creativity! Like every reader I love a good story, and this list highlights five books that not only weave entertainment within their respective genres—but also tell their stories in unique visual ways by being fearless with formatting. I love being into a story and seeing there’s a journal entry or letter coming up—it’s like an intimate view into the characters’ world and experiences, and I want to eat it up! If you’re interested in finding more authors who do this, Googling “epistolary novels” will help.

I am drawn to books in which family history is never as simple as it first appears. I have always loved fiction about memory, silence, and the choices people make when they discover that something they believed about their past was not entirely true. As a novelist, I keep returning to these themes because I am fascinated by the way family stories shape who we become. I am especially interested in women who have to rebuild their sense of themselves when old explanations stop making sense. The books on this list stay with me because they do more than reveal secrets; they show what happens after the truth is known.

I grew up in New York City, the only child of a busy editor/publisher and a classical musician. We lived in a two-hundred-year-old brownstone that was full of history and books. Often, my fictional and real worlds overlapped. I explored the dark spaces in our old house and imagined the ghosts that might still dwell there. I sat in eight-foot-high windows in the summer and near fireplaces with Victorian marble mantels in winter and read Nancy Drew, Alice in Wonderland, Tolkien, Poe, Shakespeare, and more. Those stories dropped like seeds into my psyche and eventually bloomed into the thrillers and mysteries I write today.

I can't be the only one to see men with power manipulate their status to hold back others. This isn’t just a Hollywood thing. A Sunday supplement piece by a young gay actor about his troubled life with a leading director struck a chord. Fate led me to him, and he connected me with others who shared off-the-record stories of exploitation and ambition. I wanted to tell these tales but not launch yet another bad news book into an already battered world. I aimed to create something accessible and engaging, darkly funny while shining a light on Hollywood's underbelly.

I grew up in New York City, the only child of a busy editor/publisher and a classical musician. We lived in a two-hundred-year-old brownstone that was full of history and books. Often, my fictional and real worlds overlapped. I explored the dark spaces in our old house and imagined the ghosts that might still dwell there. I sat in eight-foot-high windows in the summer and near fireplaces with Victorian marble mantels in winter and read Nancy Drew, Alice in Wonderland, Tolkien, Poe, Shakespeare, and more. Those stories dropped like seeds into my psyche and eventually bloomed into the thrillers and mysteries I write today.

When I set out to write a novel in the female voice, it was purely intended as an interesting riff on one of my favorite works, Alfie. There were no literary ambitions, or frankly, awareness of other works to benchmark myself against or build upon. My motivation was the rawness of the idea itself and the excitement of an uncharted, enjoyable venture. It wasn’t until I read other reference works—before, during, and after the writing process—that I became aware of the unique and enriching reading experience such an approach can offer. A multi-faceted experience that, for many, ultimately becomes less about the story and more about the introspection and awareness it fosters.

I can't be the only one to see men with power manipulate their status to hold back others. This isn’t just a Hollywood thing. A Sunday supplement piece by a young gay actor about his troubled life with a leading director struck a chord. Fate led me to him, and he connected me with others who shared off-the-record stories of exploitation and ambition. I wanted to tell these tales but not launch yet another bad news book into an already battered world. I aimed to create something accessible and engaging, darkly funny while shining a light on Hollywood's underbelly.

I grew up in New York City, the only child of a busy editor/publisher and a classical musician. We lived in a two-hundred-year-old brownstone that was full of history and books. Often, my fictional and real worlds overlapped. I explored the dark spaces in our old house and imagined the ghosts that might still dwell there. I sat in eight-foot-high windows in the summer and near fireplaces with Victorian marble mantels in winter and read Nancy Drew, Alice in Wonderland, Tolkien, Poe, Shakespeare, and more. Those stories dropped like seeds into my psyche and eventually bloomed into the thrillers and mysteries I write today.

As a mystery author, I’ve long been drawn to stories about missing persons, particularly novels featuring missing mothers. I suspect the special appeal of books about missing moms is because my own mother was M-I-A during my childhood. Whereas my older sisters lost our mother to mental illness at the tender ages of four and seven, in some ways, I was fortunate because I was an infant when our mom was institutionalized and, thus, had never fully bonded with her. And yet, the longing for my mother was ever-present. She left behind a large empty space in our family. 

I began writing after reading multiple novels and watching the masters unfold stories page after page. With a background in homicide (working them, not committing them) and the move to forensics, a homeless man’s murder prompted me to write my first novel after I identified the deceased by skin removed from his thumb. I was hooked. Experience in the medical examiner’s office taught me how inciting incidents develop into an abundance of mystery, suspense, and thrills. It’s never as bad as it seems; it’s worse. The dead, unlike witnesses, tell the truth about what happened. More ingenious ways to die than ever imagined. This is why I write.