Books like Sorry for the Inconvenience/Going Your Way — picked by fans

I was intrigued by the magical abilities in the “Hands” of each one of the three protagonists in this book. Tamara uses her hands for tarot readings to tell people’s futures, while Phyllis’s hands have a super-power strength for knife-throwing, and Dev has “Saint’s Hands” have a sort of spidey-sense, helping his work as a police spy.

I was intrigued by Tamara’s tarot readings as part of this crime story, with the weaving in of black people’s stories of trauma, the double-edged sword of passing for white, and Juju assassins. This alternate history is a nebula of magic, criminals, and an exploration of how love heals people.

This book was the 2021 Winner of the World Fantasy Award. It was an unexpected winner, but I can see how Johnson’s gritty writing pulled people in. Trigger warning: if you have nerves about reading about knives as weapons, you may want to… show more.

If you like small town settings with big old houses and hints of a ghost, intrigue, and simmering romance, you’ll love Storms of the Heart.

The story’s female main character, Emerson Lane, finds herself right in the middle of a raging thunderstorm at night on her way to her Uncle Wayne’s house in Twin Creeks, where she lived when her parents died in a car crash. She’s on a mission to reconnect with her uncle after leaving abruptly years ago to live in New York City. Trouble is waiting for her in the name of Sheriff Max Lomax, who she left behind.

Max has his own problems, but he is secretly but begrudgingly thrilled to see her, but questions whether this time she’ll stay. I liked the interesting characters in this story and the pleasant descriptions of Emerson’s hometown. The writing was so nice it felt like I could just… show more.

I adored the intertwined storylines in The Magnolia Palace. 

Fiona Davis is famous for her historical fiction which unearths little-known true stories. She sets this book in dual timelines, between 1919 and 1966, until the two characters meet in the present day. Her heroine’s gripping drama takes her from losing her mother, to being sought for questioning in her landlord's death, to landing a job as a private secretary in The Frick House. Along the way, we get an insider's view of art, architecture, and the rich inner lives of colorful characters.

Davis depicts the world of fashion and modeling, taking inspiration from real-life model Audrey Munson. I loved learning about Munson, whose likeness can be found on statues around New York City. 

The Magnolia Palace is magnificent!

Fans of A Little Princess will find a story both fresh and comfortingly familiar inside these pages. Izzy and Emma's personalities spark off the page, and the ticking clock to the time their magic is either activated or snuffed out forever makes their journey to friendship even more endearing. Featuring themes of justice and social change, this is a retelling not to be missed.

Like many New Yorkers, I am fascinated by the history of the city.

The Cost of Good Intentions details the run-up to a crucial turning point for the city: the fiscal crisis of 1975.

Written by a high-ranking city official after the fact, the book is an insightful analysis of how local government, particularly under Mayor John Lindsay, attempted to respond to a range of significant challenges, including the civil right movement, rising crime, and changing economic conditions. 

Despite the best of intentions, the administration’s reach ended up exceeding its grasp, laying the groundwork not only for the fiscal crisis and for an era of declining public trust in government.  

While I was writing my novel about Elizabeth Arden and Helena Rubinstein, I heard that Renée Rosen was writing about Estée Lauder and couldn’t wait to read it.

She perfectly captures the pushy, driven, hilarious character of Estée, who was known for accosting strangers in the street to tell them they were wearing the wrong shade of lipstick for their skin tone. Renée Rosen is one of the authors whose books I always preorder: I love everything she writes.

I can still remember so much from this book. A great stat Hawes included was that in the year 1870, 90 percent of upper-class New Yorkers lived in townhouses or other types of single-family homes. By 1930, 90 percent lived in apartment buildings or “French flats,” as they were sometimes called. Basically, almost alone among American cities, New York chose to emulate Paris in its model of urbanism rather than London.

New York developers built and sold “French flats” that were large and ostentatious, like the Ansonia and the Dakota, which are still there today. These iconic apartment buildings were built along the streetcar and subway lines. Hawes was a writer for The New Yorker, so this is very readable.

I love prose poems, and they are a great introduction to poetry for those unfamiliar with the genre. I admire Sean Singer's singular sensibility, as he weaves the dailiness of driving a taxi with intimations of jazz, the divine, and insights into the human condition. I find this collection mesmerizing, and return to it over and again.

Dead Jack is a zombie private detective with fairy dust addiction and a homunculus sidekick. He plies his trade in the Five Cities of Pandemonium which are very clearly the five boroughs of New York City.

I'm a sucker for a snarky voice first and foremost. Staten Island-based Aquilone melds horror and humor into a page-turner series that deliver my recommended daily dose of Vitamin Snark.

This beautifully written history focuses on another nineteenth-century Black New Yorker who defies expectations and deserves our attention. Like Educated for Freedom and Black Gotham, White’s story places us in historical moments surrounding the 1827 law ending slavery in New York State. White puts us on the vibrant, noisy, streets of the city, inviting us to see both hope and defiance in how Black people dressed, how they walked down the street, and what they did at the theater. At the center of this history emerges James Hewlett, a man whose life is worthy of at least one feature film, but has remained largely unknown outside of specialists in the field. Hewlett was a Black Shakespearean actor who insisted on his right to interpret Shakespeare for himself and for the community, even as white tastemakers sought to keep the bard’s words to themselves.