Books like Repetition — picked by fans

Ingalls wrote the truest book about marriage and loneliness I've read this year by giving her protagonist a six-foot amphibian lover, which shouldn't work but does because the surrealism is more honest than realism would have been.

Wood writes Thomas Flett's world — the horse and cart, the shrimp trawling, the grey tides of Longferry — with such atmospheric precision that you feel you're watching a way of life disappear in real time, and the beauty is that he never announces the elegy, he just lets you live inside it.

It seemed to take me forever to read The Magus, much longer than it took me to read other books by Fowles, even though it's a more exciting novel than any other he wrote. For most of the book's length I felt that the writing was excellent, the story was very good, but the tone of the narrator, Nicholas Urfe, had dated badly. I found the long extracts when Conchis was talking about his past to be vastly more engaging than anything Nicholas had to say. But Nicholas grew more tolerable in the last third of the novel, especially when the action speeded up and he was put on trial by Conchis and his cohorts. The cascading deceptions became stupendous at that juncture, one deceit after another, what we thought we knew flipped suddenly into something new, and so on. Nothing was certain anymore, it is really quite disorienting stuff,… show more.

The narrator's situation, as a new resident of heaven, is quite out of the ordinary, yet I soon suspended my disbelief and became intrigued by this dead teenager's description of her former life, friends and family and her observation of their ongoing activities. I was also struck by how, in contrast to the underlying horror of the cause of her death, her prose, at times, is quite poetic, and her description of her surroundings very inviting, making one almost look forward to the attractions of the after-life!

While not perhaps a “romance” novel in the established-formula sense, this book is achingly romantic. This epic story truly focuses on the gradual development of the two protagonists’ relationship and how time travel both created and challenged their love. This book ignited my passion for magic-realism romantic novels and remains one of my top books of all time.

I adore the contrast of romantic love between two seemingly destined souls and the brutality of some events caused by Henry’s uncontrolled time travel. There’s also the tricky angle of the age gap (only sometimes, depending on where Henry and Clare are in their lives, but it is occasionally extreme), which the author doesn’t shy away from. And I confess this is probably the book that made me sob the most!

What can you really say about this one—besides the obvious: it’s perfect. 

Chuck Palahniuk isn’t like the rest of us. He’s sharper, more cynical, funnier, more original. Calling myself a writer in his presence would be like hanging a finger-painting at the Louvre.

Fight Club digs straight into the restless undercurrent of modern life—that gnawing sense that comfort, convenience, and consumerism have carved a hollow right through your chest. We’re one Amazon delivery away from losing whatever’s left of our humanity. Or our masculinity. It reminds me of that line in Jurassic Park: “A T-rex doesn’t want to be fed, he wants to hunt.” More applicable to us now than we’d like to admit.

I love this book because it doesn’t let up where others might. It doesn’t edit its message to fit some form of Overton window. It laughs in your face while stripping everything down to bone. Less… show more.

At the beginning of this book, I recognized the ingredients that make up popular erotic novels. The main character, Edie, a Black woman and struggling artist, is beginning a relationship with an older, wealthy, successful white man in an open marriage. There’s a power imbalance. To a certain extent, this excites Edie, and in this way, the book fits neatly into the parameters of the genre.

However, the relationship becomes messy, and Edie’s life, both with and away from Eric, is fraught with bad decisions. Race, wealth, and gender intersect with sex in a complex and uncomfortable milieu. Through all of this, and with the guidance of Eric’s wife, Edie begins to make progressive, less destructive choices, and as she does, her art progresses.

Exalted follows two women, Emily, an Internet astrologer, and Dawn, a lesbian waitress looking for a connection of any sort.

Dorn’s writing is sharp and funny as she tracks the way that both women are forced to scrape together a living. I love to see a character at work, and Emily’s wry sense of humor as she manipulates viral trends and conjures somewhat bogus readings is a powerful engine for the story.

As the novel progresses, the main characters’ lives begin to overlap, and you begin to wonder whether some destinies are really written in the stars as any good astrologer would insist. 

This is a gorgeously written book about two best friends doing nothing in particular. Isa and Gala arrive in New York City intertwined and allied.

They whirl through all the requisite stops of the party girl layabout lifestyle. I was fascinated by the friendship’s closeness; Isa and Gala know each other’s quirks and fears in staggering intimacy. They function as a unit, as a “we.” Isa’s aimlessly wandering through life, but she isn’t in it alone, and that’s comforting to me.

Together, Isa and Gala turn aimlessness into freedom. It’s a detail-packed, slow-burning portrait of how we build identity together, intertwining ourselves and pushing each other forward.

I spent my summers during college doing odd jobs as a temp, but even readers who’ve never known anything but “the steadiness” at work will enjoy this mythical look at the gig economy.

The unnamed narrator, born from a long line of temps, takes pride in her ability to “accurately replace a person,” whether that’s a pirate, an assassin, or even the chairman of the board. This book is for anyone who’s ever wondered what it would take not just to survive their job but to transcend it.