74 Books Like Sweetbitter

Old Cold Cannibal is a bit of an outlier in this list, as it doesn’t fully conform to the Douglas Adams/Terry Pratchett style of humor/narration or plotting. But it’s a unique book with an amazing voice. I have a soft spot for harsh 1800s white narrators whose doubling down on arrogance and (historically accurate) racism wrap around from being awful to weirdly and unsettlingly charming. Old Cold Cannibal delivers on that 100% and allows it to infuse some humor into what is otherwise a very dark and disturbing narrative that follows a journey across the pre-Civil War U.S. to find and slay a dragon. It’s a rough, but entertaining read.

It’s been a long time since I’ve cried at the end of a book. But I did with this one.

Gail Kittleson weaves a tapestry of characters, plot, and historical events like no other book I’ve ever read. The realistic and down-to-earth characters bring this story to life amidst the alluring backdrop of WWII, Great Britain, and Texas. The author’s unique literary style and judicious research are compelling.

I found myself so entrenched with Everett, Donnie, William, and Lillian that every time I picked up this book to read, my heart reverberated with them with every turn of the page. The twist at the end of the book is captivating for sure.

Whenever someone asks me to recommend a funny mystery/thriller series, I always do my best to steer them toward Lansdale’s Hap and Leonard series. Hap Collins is a wisecracking good ol’ boy with liberal leanings, while his best friend Leonard is a Black, gay, conservative war veteran. They bumble and punch their way through mysteries that usually involve long-buried, lethal secrets.

The Two-Bear Mambo is arguably the most cinematic of the Hap and Leonard books, and that’s because the two are searching a small Texas town for Hap’s ex-girlfriend—a town at risk of serious flooding. The climactic fight in a graveyard is an over-the-top melee of rushing water, bones, and death. Solving mysteries is even harder when you have to prevent yourself from drowning in the biggest natural disaster to hit Texas in years. 

My favorite book from Texas’ greatest living writer.

I’ve been lucky enough to go from fan to friend of Joe’s and realized a lot of the experiences of his youth ended up in this novel of a young boy in 1958 who discovers a box of love letters that unravel the mystery of a murder that happened decades ago in his small town, but some folks still want silent.

Lansdale captures a time of drive-in movies, early civil rights, and gearing up for times of change. Part Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, King’s The Body (a.k.a. Stand By Me), and all Lansdale.

The Time It Never Rained tells the grim battle between ranchers and drought in 1950s western Texas.

I grew up on a small Minnesota farm and remember my father’s struggle to keep the farm going, but at least he never faced a seven-year drought. A stubborn rancher who reminded me of my father, refuses to give in or ask for help.

I especially liked the secondary story of illegal immigrants, attitudes of ranchers toward the Feds tasked with arresting and deporting them, and the government programs that backfired in the end. It’s an excellent read that left me thankful for every drop of rain and blade of green grass. Its lessons of racism and kindness are pertinent to today’s world.

The China Bayles series by Susan Wittig-Albert introduced me to characters who are brave without being superpowered.

China Bayles is a female protagonist who is strong-willed and intelligent. The stories about her never emphasize her looks other than describing things that would be overlooked on television.

She’s left her job as a Texas attorney and runs an herb shop (it expands in later books). She’s more likely to have dirt under her nails and sneakers on her feet rather than a fresh mani-pedi with stilettos for superhero-style espionage.

China is surrounded by a tight group of loved ones. These are characters that go through troubles. They support each other. The series gives middle-aged people something to embrace when typical pop culture never lets anyone age.

After reading some China Bayles stories, I noticed myself doing new things like planting small porch pots of pansies and herbs. With small steps come… show more.

You didn’t think I could make this list without including the queen of fat-positive YA, did you? Puddin’ is my absolute favorite Julie Murphy book, and it’s down to how much I adore the main character, Millie Michalchuk. She’s unapologetically dorky and genuine with her kitty sweatshirts and news anchor aspirations, and she reminds me very much of Teen Me.

Her story touches on fat trauma (a diet culture mom, a history at fat camps) but focuses on fat joy, which hit home because girl, same. And her friendship with POV-sharing Callie Reyes is a delight. This is the one I come back to when I need a hug in book shape.

There’s nothing I love more than a book about a gutsy girl.

Calpurnia, 11 years old in 1899, has to fight to learn natural science against her family’s expectations of becoming a good little housewife. My favorite part of this book is Callie’s relationship with her Granddaddy, a cantankerous Civil War veteran who also happens to be a passionate amateur naturalist. He encourages and sticks up for her as she learns what she yearns to know. 

For me, these two co-conspirators’ search for a new species captured the romance of science–the dream of contributing something new, the joy of the hunt, the collaboration with those who share your passions, and the beauty of even the smallest plant.

Who says American literature has to be written in English? Told through a number of voices and in a mixture of folktales, memories, and dreams that James Joyce would have loved, this novel traces the lives of four generations of a Chicano family in Presidio, Texas who, with the coming of the Anglos and their guns, found themselves separated from their family and friends by a river that once gave life, but now is a border between one country and the next. Over all is the grinning, terrifying Green Devil, who is at once the fields of cotton sucking the life-giving waters from the river, and the malevolent spirit mocking brown people trying to live in a ruined world. It’s a little masterpiece.

This book served as the starting point for many present-day Alamo historians. Written by future American Poet Laureate Robert Penn Warren, and enhanced with vivid illustrations by noted Western artist William Moyers, it is the perfect introduction to the Alamo story for young readers. A copy remains on my bookshelf sixty years after its discovery.