100 Books Like Tell Me What Really Happened

I loved how claustrophobic and creepy this was. This is another story where I thought I had at least some of it figured out. But nope, I was wrong every time. The ending was not only jaw-dropping and ingenious but satisfying, too—something I think is tricky to achieve.

I was so wrong that I had to go back and read some of it again. I was shocked to find that all the breadcrumbs leading to the ending were indeed peppered throughout. So cleverly done.

Next, we have a true standout in YA—a novel that arguably revolutionized the mystery genre for teen readers.

While mysteries have long been a staple in YA literature, in my view, this book sparked a new age. This novel, now adapted into a popular Netflix series, firmly established YA mystery as a force to be reckoned with, largely thanks to its clever twist.

Taut, scandalous, and enthralling, this book exemplifies the blame game genre.

Actually, I tell a lie. I had read crime before my honeymoon, but only Agatha Christie, whose whodunnits always feature murders that are tastefully described and over in a couple of lines.

With Christie, it’s all about the puzzle, and boy, is she good at that. Her characters are often a bit two-dimensional, but you forgive that for the sake of her plots, which always race along and convince, however unlikely in real life.

This is one of her most famous ones, and rightly so. No spoilers here, but if you read this as I did as a teenager (recommended by my father) you are in for a grand surprise. Hopefully.

This book carved its place in the YA genre.

Who lurks behind the ominous alias “Aces”? With its compelling narrative and prose, this book fearlessly confronts weighty topics like racism and homophobia.

It captivates with its brisk pace and emotional impact. And the ending was a twist I did not see coming.

This is a fun book. The late Bob Adey’s passion for locked-room puzzles and his extraordinary breadth of reading shines through. After a discursive history of this type of detective story, he lists over two thousand novels and stories and the ‘impossible crime’ elements within them. A separate section listing all the solutions is not only enlightening but highly entertaining. A recent updated edition by Brian Skupin evidences the enduring appeal of ‘miraculous mysteries.’ 

When I realised that brands and advertising campaigns are much more like hit records, blockbuster movies and celebrities than we usually admit, I wondered what makes some famous and others (mostly) not?

Thompson’s book is the best single answer I’ve found so far and shows that fame doesn’t automatically follow the best song, book, or advert – you have to work at being popular, distinctive, and talked about. Lessons all ad agencies should learn.

Where the Girls Are is about a particular generation of women growing up in post War America, and the impact popular media had on their lives, both for good and for bad. It weaves wonderfully smart, often funny, always engagingly written discussions of pop music, movies, and television shows with Douglas’s own experiences at the time. It’s unabashedly feminist—but it isn’t a speech or a political manifesto. It’s an exploration of the push-pull of growing up female at a transitional time, a time in which attitudes toward women were changing, unevenly, and how pop culture reflected the tensions of the times. This book is history, memoir, sociology, media studies, all at once – immensely informative and very entertaining.

I find WASP culture absurd and fascinating. I love that rich people, really rich people, have a fixation with stickers, slapping abbreviations for Martha’s Vineyard or Nantucket or East Hampton on their luxury vehicles even though said luxury vehicles, parked in said locales, really should say it all. Such is the taxonomy writ large in Lisa Birnbach’s seminal Preppy Handbook, which explores other WASP signifiers such as “the politics of monogramming,” the elevation of old clothes over new, and what your choice of private schools, charities and vacation spots says about you. Pairs well with Take Ivy, a cult photography book by the Japanese photographer T. Hayashida, who spent the early-to-mid 1960s photographing American preps on college campuses — with prep soon becoming the rage in the Japan’s hipster Ginza district.

My introduction to world mythology was Joseph Campbell, who described a nearly universal narrative – or monomyth – in which a young man (such as Christ, Percival, or the Buddha) ventures from his land, defeats opponents or temptations and returns with a critical gift for his people.

America, however, inverted this myth in profoundly important ways. In our story, repeated over three centuries in thousands of sermons, novels, movies, television, and video games, an innocent and racially pure community is threatened by evil (usually non-white).

When democratic institutions fail to suppress the threat, a selfless superhero arrives – from elsewhere – to defeat the villains and restore the community to harmony. Then, however, disdaining the feminine values of community and relationship, this hero disappears (often into the West).

I realized that he is the model for both our ideas of distant fathering as well as our unshakable belief in American… show more.

In 2018, I visited one of the most unusual exhibitions I’d ever been to. Hosted by the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, ‘Spellbound’ examined how magical thinking has been practiced over the centuries.

From mummified cats to lovers’ rings, the displays were dazzling. Every time I open the accompanying book, with its remarkable photographs and illustrations, I’m transported back to this extraordinary, baffling world.