100 Books Like Really Good, Actually

I could listen to Fredrik Bachman’s characters monologue about life all day, so to get to read a book where eight of his quirky—and yes, anxious—people share bits of their lives and hard-fought wisdom is a gift to humanity.

Not to mention, many of the chapters are formatted as witness interviews between the authorities and the characters caught in a hostage crisis.

Heavy? Not when it’s Backman writing. He creates the most vivid scenes, even when all he’s working with on the page is dialogue.

This book has been criticized for ignoring the brutal aspects of the Bolshevik revolution and giving us only old-world elegance and luxury. Hello? It’s historical FICTION! Instead of facts, the author gives us atmosphere, a charming main character who is being gradually revealed to us.

It made me ask: Did time change him, or was he always that way, and the events brought out his “true” self? It’s a story told in a polished style or, as one reviewer put it, with “a permanently arched eyebrow.” 

What comfort library would be complete without Emily Henry?

I’ll read anything she writes, but Poppy and Alex’s love story is the stuff of my dreams. Friends to lovers, split timelines, and more yearning than I know what to do with Seamlessly blending humour and heart and set between Palm Springs, New York, Italy, and somewhere in the sedate American midwest, You and Me on Vacation was the antidote to my mid-lockdown claustrophobia.

I like to read my fluff on the treadmill – it keeps my brain more occupied than music or podcasts, so I’m less likely to remember how much I hate working out – and it was so delicious I found myself looking forward to time at the gym. A true feat.

While not exactly a light read – it contains adult explorations of trauma and violence – Purcell’s writing is drum-tight and entirely absorbing.

This book broke my months-long reading slump and writer's block, reminding me that all it takes to fall in love with stories again is one really, really good one. I’m not much of an annotator, but the pages of my copy are splattered with pen, most often exclamation marks and underlines and obscene exclamations of enthusiasm and grief.

Split between multiple perspectives, locations, and decades, The Lessons is a heart-wrenching romance without fluff, tropes, and suspended disbeliefs. A story of expectations and disappointments, promises and betrayals, it’s full of sharp observations about writing and writers, social constructs, and human behaviour.

I devoured it in days, and can’t wait to forget all the details so I can come back to it and fall in love all over… show more.

A master of the flawed and loveable heroine, O’Donoghue’s writing is both deeply comforting and immensely frustrating – because every wry observation is so relatable I can’t believe I didn’t think of it first.

Exploring life in GFC-era Ireland through the wide eyes of a broke, experience-hungry university student and floundering graduate, this story is a tribute to friendship, self discovery, and all the missteps of newfound freedom.

The deeper into the story I went, the closer I felt to my eighteen-year-old self: naive and desperate not to be, nervous about the power in the currency of youth and eager to spend it, full of love and pride and optimism.

I can’t wait to get my hands on a physical copy so I can slap sticky tabs on every page and recall every sparkling insight, quippy conversation, and touching moment.

The Trope: The Unknown Threat

Lisa Jewell is a master of psychological suspense, and I felt this was one of her best. I love true crime podcasts, so using a podcaster as a protagonist and having clips from her show in the story added a layer of reality to the fiction. 

The main character meets a woman with the same birthday as her while out celebrating. She decides to do a podcast series around the theme of birthday twins—an innocent, even fun beginning to a story that becomes anything but. For much of the book, the main character knew something was very, very wrong but had no idea where the menace was coming from. It made me squirm—in a good way. I couldn’t put it down.

Reading this book is like re-experiencing your worst breakup in the most winning way. Andy is going through it. His girlfriend, Jen, has broken up with him for reasons he STILL can’t understand, and he’s now spending his days drinking at the bar and calling up exes, which… who among us hasn’t?

I absolutely love how romantic this book about getting over a relationship feels. The audiobook is utterly charming and often laugh-out-loud funny as Andy drinks too much, tries on several new lifestyles, and pines over Jen. Eventually, the whole book is flipped on its head when you get the breakup from Jen’s point of view. And yes, Andy can feel like a real jackass, but that adds to the realism without his narration ever feeling grating.

I’ve spoken to people who really couldn’t get into this book, and I consider them somewhat deranged. It’s a rollicking good read, and maybe it helped that I enjoyed the author reading the story, which added to my enjoyment. I’ll go out on a limb and suggest very few authors make great audiobook performers. Mortimer absolutely does, getting the voice of the squirrel spot on.

There’s a strange and convoluted plot set in the not-terribly-underworld of London. A brilliant neighbor part for Kathy Burke should Mortimer ever be fielding Netflix offers. It’s a book you’ll read in days, not weeks. Fast-paced and has me on edge for part two–out in August.

This could be a polarizing book, but if you’ve picked this recommendation list from all the others and have gotten this far, there’s a good chance you’re also into books about young women making questionable choices. The protagonist, Hera, is starting a relationship with her older colleague at her workplace, where she’s an online comment moderator.

The story is written from Hera’s point of view, who has a sense of ironic self-awareness but is also desperate to feel something, which is probably what leads her into a course of action she knows is going to bite her in the arse, eventually.

Newman delicately explores the tumultuous journey of mothers going through the rigors of menopause and how this affects the way they deal with their adult children.

I thought she handled that awful sense of “what is happening to me?” while at the same time her main character needs to be the same woman she’s always been to keep her family together.

This is a beautiful story.