Books like The Crown in the Heather — picked by fans

This book was like a fisherman with bait on the hook. I was the fish; the fantasy setting and the author’s magnificent ability with words were the bait.

Mary Stewart was, of course, the sportswoman out to snag something in my soul. I was prepared to be entertained, but the story carried a surprising amount of weight, asking questions like What do we live for? Can humanity ever be enough? Merlin came into an understanding of his place in the world — not through romance or fantasy adventures as we so typically read — but through internal revelation.

With his journey, I was invited into soulful reflection and some uncomfortable truths of my own. In the end, I decided Mary Stewart knew very well what she was doing. The stinker.

In 1812 Britain ruled the waves and Napoleon ruled everything else. We in the twenty-first century don’t realise how difficult and dangerous those times really were, how much of an analogy can be drawn with the dark days of World War II, when Britain stood alone against the forces in Europe. While the main plot line appears to be a simple romance, in fact Bennetts has gathered together strand after strand of conflict into a rich, absorbing tapestry. There's code-breaking, social mores, how to partake of snuff, politics, the assassination of the British PM. The story is utterly absorbing and very, very real.

This book will transport you straight back to the Crete of the Bronze Age. I felt I was taking every step with the characters. Each setting, whether it be the marketplace in the village, the palace, and the underground prison cells, is meticulously described. The society, bound by ritual and ruled by a queen and her priestesses who are constantly searching for signs of approval from the goddess, is utterly believable. It's a fascinating mix of actual history and myth, where the Gods and Goddesses are as real as they were to the people living in those times.

This book takes place at the end of WW2 on a Pacific island. Jack has survived the war, but can't give up the places where he fought. For me, the book reads like a succession of short stories held together with the underlying theme of Jack’s search for himself. It tells tales from Jack’s childhood with his twin brother and stories from the war, some funny, some poignant, some a little eerie. Through it all, the author’s knowledge of aircraft and the Pacific theatre of WW2 lends authenticity. 

This isn't a fast-paced cliff-hanger. I could dip in and out and re-read sections, laugh a little, cry a little, live the war in the Pacific vicariously. It feels real.

Nigel Tranter’s Bruce Trilogy was the first historical fiction series I ever read. It fired a love of the genre that still drives my reading habits and writing today. The story of Robert the Bruce’s rise to the throne of Scotland and his fight to free Scotland from English domination can be found in history books, but Tranter made this hero of Scottish independence come alive like no straight history book could.

Set upon the Isle of Skye in the early 14th Century, The Chief is an exciting historical romance, with a lot of depth. The hero, Tormod MacLeod, is a man on a mission, to support Robert the Bruce in his struggle against the English. When he’s tricked into marrying Christina Fraser, a young noblewoman whose father was imprisoned for supporting William Wallace, he’s determined to keep his wife in her place. He has no time, or interest, in love. However, control slowly slips from his grip. This novel has one of the best kiss scenes I’ve ever read, and the setting at Dunvegan Castle upon the Isle of Skye is beautifully researched and depicted.

I’ll go ahead and admit that taking issue with David Johnson is one of my favorite pastimes. However, his work is the only work focused on eighteenth-century Scottish music, and as such is a major contribution. Johnson gives a very readable, very enjoyable (one needn’t know music…) overview of what was then known (1972) about Scottish musical culture. Arts and Enlightenment went hand in hand in Scotland, so read Broadie for the ideas and then Johnson for what these same philosophers were doing for entertainment.

This is the debut novel by Ely Percy, and tells the story of Kirsty Campbell, an ordinary Scottish girl as she navigates her way through high school in Renfrewshire.

An extremely relatable novel, it is told in short, buzzy chapters, and I love it for relating the best of what a Scottish working-class childhood can give you – resilience, humour, and the will to succeed. The book covers issues like teen pregnancy, drugs, and violence, but it does so without lecturing; rather, it celebrates what it means to be brought up in contemporary, working-class Scotland.

I have re-read this classic several times since I was a child.

The abridged version I read in 4th grade. RLS himself said, “The characters took the bit in their teeth; all at once they became detached from the flat paper, they turned their backs on me and walked off bodily…”

Not long after being introduced to Alan Breck Stewart, we hear him exclaim, in a ship’s cabin filled with the blood of villains he has shed, “Ah Davy, am I no’ a bonnie fighter!” How often, as a lad, I imagined myself taking on that crew with my broadsword!

Young David Balfour, in his quest to get back his inheritance, learns from Alan and his complex character that the Jacobite cause in Scotland is not clearly a matter of right and wrong. Did Alan kill “the Red Fox”? This is debated among Highlanders to this day! 

When I moved to Scotland for my postgrad year studying writing at the University of Edinburgh, the apartment I rented had one book in it – this collection of short stories, set in the same city.

I was pretty sure Trainspotting was the best novel I’d ever read, but I wasn’t aware of this collection of three works of Irvine Welsh’s short fiction. My first night in the apartment, I sat on the one chair and read the one book. And what a buzz!

I loved the mix of grittiness, euphoria, and dark-as-night humour. The focus on club drugs was more relatable than the heroin culture of Trainspotting (although to my delight, Spud Murphy makes a cameo appearance – twice!).