Books like Recipe for a Perfect Wife — picked by fans

Essential Skill #2 for Creatives: Practicality, not Passion

Creative professionals tend to be “passionate practitioners” but if you need to “love” every single aspect of your business, you won’t get very far. That’s why I love Terri’s book. It’s the funniest business book I’ve read! Part comic autobiography, part business handbook, Unfollow Your Passion provides practical, clear, and excellent advice. It also happens to be beautifully written, the stories so compelling and hysterical that you’ll learn the practical skills in spite of yourself. The message of this book – forget about passion – is so important, something I’ve espoused for years, but not nearly as eloquently and clearly as Terri has.

Samina is a rebel living in a traditional Pakistani community. I loved the tension between the expectations of her extended family set against her intellect and ambition. I found the quiet, subtle support of her mother really appealing, too.

It is a story steeped in drama and tragedy as well as triumph of the spirit. It opened my eyes, made me smile and made me weep. I thoroughly recommend this book for those readers who want quiet voices to be heard. 

The only male author on this list, Coleman Dowell’s Southern Gothic tale is included because it contains some of the most nuanced writing of female characters I’ve ever encountered. Too Much Flesh tells the narrative of a well-endowed farmer named Jim, his petite wife Effie, and a young man, Jabez, whose mutual obsession with Jim leads to, well, something of a frenetic climax. A story within a story, the tale is told to us by a “spinster schoolteacher” (the book was published in 1977), Miss Ethel, who channels her sexual repression into this story of the farmer.

Neither Miss Ethel nor Jim’s wife, Effie, come across as one-dimensional—they feel and act like real people on the page. Dowell himself was gay and deftly handles this queer narrative in a way that is somehow both quiet and stunning, and makes an interesting case study for the time period and genre. And… show more.

This book grabbed me by the collar and wouldn’t let me go. As in, I read it cover to cover, read it again, and find myself still thinking about it long after I read it. Now, full disclosure: this is not a happy-go-lucky romp. Suspenseful and tense, political and personal—this love story between Dani and Carmen was a can’t put it down, stay up all night reading experience for me.

Told from Dani’s point of view during a tumultuous time, the decisions she faced have all the more resonance for me as the political climate of our country and the world rapidly changes. If you’re thinking, why is this book on a list about more than one point of view, please see my next recommendation!

I had to read this when it came out because it felt ripped from the headlines. Sarah Lai has left behind her Hollywood dreams of filmmaking for a quieter, simpler life. But a journalist reaches out and drags her past to the forefront by asking questions about Sarah’s experiences working with a celebrated producer. There have been… complaints. From women. A lot of women.

Sound familiar? This is a wholly fictional take on past events, but it also forces the reader to examine the ways in which we might be complicit in holding up systems, and what we can do to break bad patterns.

Engaging, timely, and I couldn’t put it down. Again, women find their voices and stand up for other women around them. That’s a narrative I can’t miss. 

This unexpected discovery—the story of Meg of St. Michael’s Mead in the 14th century—exemplifies the best of what draws readers to historical fiction. First, there's the heroine, Meg, a young woman coming of age and marked by a facial disfigurement. Immediately, we understand her outsider status, her alienation, and her inevitable struggle against others' scapegoating.

This scapegoating stems not only from typical ignorance but also from the very real fears of the time that she might be a child of the Devil. Meg's life and journey are populated with memorable allies and enemies, but it's her determination to cultivate her talents in women's health—despite the opposition of the male medical elite—that lends her story contemporary relevance.

Leslie Feinberg’s story is a powerful response to the notion that simply discarding sexist gender expectations ought to be enough. Feinberg’s main character Jess was still a young adult when modern feminism exploded onto the scene in the 1970s but Jess isn’t merely androgynous or resisting sexist limitations. She’s butch.  

Right from the start, I was rooting for Ayana, who lives in this riverboat community in Arkansas. Her only support is her grandmother and brother, Lyle, while all the other men in her story are abusive and cruel. Sadly, no one seems to question their authority, and against this background, illiterate Ayana makes her play.

What I like about this story is the way it is written. At first, Ayana’s voice is presented in dialect, but as the story evolves and her mind clears, so does the text. This is a great structure that accurately represents Ayana’s blossoming personality. 

This book came to me when I had survived so much up until that point and really began to realize the need to liberate myself and release social conditioning. I was like, “Goodness, this is the book I need to hold up anytime someone shames me using tropes about a ‘woman’s place’ in the world.”

I enjoyed how it invites you to question why powerful figures in traditional religious institutions have been rendered as men. She pushes us to go farther back in history, before Abrahamic religions, to trace the spread of disinformation about women as leaders, goddesses, and powerful beings. 

I love this book because it is useful at any step of your journey to reclaiming personal power.

While other scholars have focused on how various definitions of womanhood influenced the formation of the United States’ political and legal systems, Mark Kann pays closer attention to how perceptions of manhood shaped the creation of the U.S. during the early republic. In A Republic of Men, Kann contends that the U.S.’s founders sought to establish a republic based on male authority and female subordination. During the early years of the republic, as Kann describes it, political and legal authorities connected white men to productivity and reason while linking all women to inherent weakness and dependency. I found Kann’s book especially helpful for understanding how American political and legal authorities sought to institutionalize rights and privilege for white men only.