Here are 100 books that The Deathless Girls fans have personally recommended if you like
The Deathless Girls.
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Historical fantasy is my favorite genre, combining my twin passions of history and mythology/folklore. I especially like to read about unfamiliar times, places, identities, and cultures. What I love best about the fantastical is that it allows me to think and write about deep matters symbolically. As someone still discovering my asexuality in middle age, I’ve always identified best with coming-of-age stories, which is why there are so many young protagonists in both my reading and my writing.
I love everything Juliet Marillier writes. She is so good at using her knowledge of folklore to create magical stories in which the heroine must save the day. This book departs from her usual Celtic setting, taking us instead to Transylvania in the time of the Ottoman Empire and a reimagining of the Twelve Dancing Princesses.
The setting takes five sisters from a crumbling castle at the edge of the Wildwood to the Faerie Kingdom at the heart of that wood. I love how the Wildwood seems to tailor itself to the ages and personalities of the sisters. So, five-year-old Stela spends her time with cute and playful creatures, while elder sister Tatiana falls under the spell of Sorrow, one of the Night People. Protagonist Jena has her own love story with the talking frog Gogu.
The wildwood holds many mysteries. Jena and her sisters share the biggest of all, a fantastic secret that enables them to escape the confines of their everyday life in rural Transylvania. They have kept it hidden for nine long years.
When their father falls ill and must leave their forest home over the winter, Jena and her older sister Tati are left in charge. All goes well until a tragic accident allows their overbearing cousin Cezar to take control. The appearance of a mysterious young man in a black coat divides sister from sister, and suddenly Jena finds herself fighting…
A hair-raising, side-splitting supernatural adventure!
In the idyllic town of Pine Port, Kelsey was on the cusp of realizing her dreams. In weeks, she'd clasp her high school diploma and beauty license. Or so she thought, until her life took a supernatural detour, far removed from the ordinary path she'd…
Historical fantasy is my favorite genre, combining my twin passions of history and mythology/folklore. I especially like to read about unfamiliar times, places, identities, and cultures. What I love best about the fantastical is that it allows me to think and write about deep matters symbolically. As someone still discovering my asexuality in middle age, I’ve always identified best with coming-of-age stories, which is why there are so many young protagonists in both my reading and my writing.
I first read this book when I was ill in bed, on strong painkillers, so the setting had a heightened quality in my mind that can never be replicated. But I’ve now read it several times (and watched the Netflix TV series), and it remains a wonderful book with great settings and characters, romance, and danger.
Before I read this book, I knew very little about Chinese Malaysian society in the late nineteenth century, and it was fascinating to learn. I also loved the Plains of the Dead, where ghosts live in houses and eat food that corresponds to the paper funeral offerings burned by their families. Seventeen-year-old Li Lan must go there to seek the deceased young man whose “ghost bride” she is and stop him from haunting her.
A haunting, evocative and highly unusual romantic debut and now a Netflix Mandarin original drama premiering January 2020!
Seventeen-year-old Li Lan lives in 1890s Malaya with her quietly-ruined father, who returns one evening with a proposition - the fabulously wealthy Lim family want Li Lan to marry their son. The only problem is, he's dead. After a fateful visit to the Lim mansion, Li Lan finds herself haunted not only by her ghostly would-be suitor, but also her desire for the Lims' handsome new heir. At night she is drawn into the Chinese afterlife - a world of ghost cities,…
Historical fantasy is my favorite genre, combining my twin passions of history and mythology/folklore. I especially like to read about unfamiliar times, places, identities, and cultures. What I love best about the fantastical is that it allows me to think and write about deep matters symbolically. As someone still discovering my asexuality in middle age, I’ve always identified best with coming-of-age stories, which is why there are so many young protagonists in both my reading and my writing.
There’s not enough Muslim historical fantasy in the world, and this one is so lavish and full of aching romance—my favorite kind! It takes us from 18th-century Cairo, where con-girl Nahri accidentally summons centuries-old deava warrior Dara, to the fabled City of Brass, its walls covered in enchanted statues, home to rival clans of djinn.
I love how the tribes of Deavabad reflect different parts of the Islamic world and its pre-Islamic culture. For example, the main djinn faith reflects Islam, whereas the deava faith with its fire temple reflects the Zoroastrianism of ancient Persia. It’s a complex, believable world in which I can immerse myself, full of revelations, betrayals, tugs of loyalty, and dilemmas of love.
Nahri has never believed in magic. Certainly, she has power; on the streets of eighteenth-century Cairo, she's a con woman of unsurpassed talent. But she knows better than anyone that the trades she uses to get by-palm readings, zars, and a mysterious gift for healing-are all tricks, both the means to the delightful end of swindling Ottoman nobles and a reliable way to survive.
But when Nahri accidentally summons Dara, an equally sly, darkly mysterious djinn warrior, to her side during one of her cons, she's forced to reconsider her beliefs. For Dara tells Nahri an extraordinary tale: across hot,…
An interdimensional mixer with angels and other beings brings unexpected trouble for Malachi and his friends in this smart and uniquely funny second book about the squad of teens from hell.
When an angel comes to his home to deliver a message, Malachi immediately knows what’s going on. The seraph…
Historical fantasy is my favorite genre, combining my twin passions of history and mythology/folklore. I especially like to read about unfamiliar times, places, identities, and cultures. What I love best about the fantastical is that it allows me to think and write about deep matters symbolically. As someone still discovering my asexuality in middle age, I’ve always identified best with coming-of-age stories, which is why there are so many young protagonists in both my reading and my writing.
How could I not love a book set in an alternate Renaissance Venice? When modern-day teenager Lucien “stravagates” in his sleep to Belezza, he discovers a world of gondolas and bridges, spies and alchemy. I love the way Venetian customs are ramped up to fantasy proportions—for example, the traditional “marriage with the sea” involves the ruling Duchessa actually plunging into the lagoon—or does it?
The book moves between the fantastical Bellezza and the “real world” of modern-day Britain, where Lucien is a teenage cancer patient. Lucien’s increasing illness in our world provides added jeopardy to the adventures in Belezza, where Lucien teams up with Ariana—a plucky girl who wants to become the city’s first female mandolier (gondolier)—to save Belezza from the machinations of Rinaldo di Chimici.
Set in Talia, a parallel world very similar to 16th-century Italy, the narrative follows Lucien, who in our world is very ill. Given a marbled notebook to use as a diary, the notebook is the unexpected means that transports Lucien to this dangerous new world; a world that thrills to the delight of political intrigue and where a life can be snuffed out with a flash of a merlino blade. The city of Bellezza (Venice in our world) is astonishingly evoked, with a filmic eye to detail, from the sensuousness of silks and velvets, to the thrill and danger of…
As a fantasy author and professional counsellor, I am incredibly passionate about topics which are relevant not only to mental health, but to us in contemporary society. Feminist themes such as those discussed in my book list comes under than umbrella—we deal with these in our day to day lives. I experience them personally and also see it within my counselling clients. I believe that being able to read about these issues within fantasy stories is really important to allow us to understand and process the difficult thoughts and feelings they can bring up within us.
A grimdark fantasy in the tone of Abercrombie, Moss’s The Worthy is a brilliant debut that explores a fractious sibling relationship between brother and sister Prince Barsten and Princess Ailith, both of whom are battling to become heir to the kingdom of Crell. Ailith herself is hiding her lover, Lady Avalon, at the same time as trying to protect the kingdom when it quite literally begins to tear itself apart due to a mysterious magical entity. The book explores issues of patriarchal oppression, historic abuse and trauma, sexuality and homophobia. Despite the grim world and morally grey characters, I found myself drawn into this story because of the important themes it considered.
Blood is thicker than water. Tell that to Prince Barsten, betrayed and abandoned on foreign soil. His sister is intent on claiming the throne and he’s intent on stealing it back. One of them might succeed, if it weren’t for a sacred creature infecting people with its emotions. Rage, fear, paranoia, despair. As their country collapses, the royal siblings must stay true to themselves or find out just how thick their blood really is.
Moss’s compelling debut novel dives into a desperate kingdom, full of intrigue, treachery and sapphic-longing. Fast-paced and awash with sinful characters and fetid settings, The Worthy…
Whatever story I’m telling, I try to write female characters who are smart, funny, kind, and ultimately empowering; characters that drive the narrative, not the other way around. It is really important for me that my female characters have agency – that they actively move the story forward, make decisions and step up. Those are the kind of stories I like to read too. The books on this list are some of my favourites and all contain strong female protagonists. I hope you enjoy.
I absolutely adore Lucy Strange’s books and her latest one, Sisters of the Lost Marsh, is a gloriously Gothic mystery with sisterhood at its centre. The story is about a family of six sisters reigned over by their tyrannical father. When one of the sisters goes missing, 12-year-old Willa decides to take matters into her own hands and uncover what happened. This book is a beautiful blend of mystery, folktale, and feminism and one I simply could not put down.
From the Waterstones Prize-shortlisted author of Our Castle by the Sea comes a gorgeously gothic story, perfect for fans of Emma Carroll and Frances Hardinge ...
'My book of the year. This is storytelling so secure and shining that you can almost feel the glow.' HILARY MCKAY, COSTA BOOK AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR OF THE SKYLARK'S WAR
'I absolutely love this book ... Lucy Strange is a wonderful, accomplished writer whose books stay with you long after you have finished reading.' NATASHA FARRANT, COSTA BOOK AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR OF VOYAGE OF THE SPARROWHAWK
Life is hard for Willa, Grace and Freya, and their…
A spy school for girls amidst Jane Austen’s high society.
Daughters of the Beau Monde who don’t fit London society’s strict mold are banished to Stranje House, where the headmistress trains these unusually gifted girls to enter the dangerous world of spies in the Napoleonic wars. #1 NYT bestselling author…
I’ve always searched for personalities – mythological, literary, or real – affirming the highest ethical claims for justice. Sophocles’s Antigone is, without doubt, the preeminent example of this ethical demand, based on ancient unwritten laws and related demands for human dignity. As a woman, Antigone also presents the forgotten and suppressed orders of femininity, which were present in all archaic religions and mythologies, but later repressed and fully replaced with exclusively male Gods. I’m therefore interested in books that guide us in this search for the power of ethics and femininity and hope this list will give you an idea of the rich ethical potentials that we possess.
This excellent collection of essays brings some of the key readings of Sophocles’ Antigone in an ethical and feminist key. It includes, among others, interpretations by Tina Chanter, Luce Irigaray, and Bracha L. Ettinger. In the fascinating lineup of chapters, the book guides us through political, psychoanalytical, and sexual genealogies and classical interpretations of this Greek myth, thus providing the authoritative scholarship on a female figure of Antigone.
Antigone has become a major figure in current cultural discourse thanks to the late twentieth-century interpretations by such controversial theorists as Lacan, Derrida, Irigaray, Zizek, and Judith Butler. This collection of articles by distinguished scholars from a variety of intellectual disciplines (including philosophy, psychoanalysis, feminism, theatre, and the classics) provides a postmodern perspective on the ethical and political issues raised by this ancient text and recent theatrical productions. The contributors provide an array of perspectives on a female figure who questions the role of the patriarchal state.
We had money for a while when I was a kid in the Midwest and then, suddenly, we did not. I watched my world of opportunity change dramatically almost overnight, and my mother struggle to redefine herself as not only a mother but now also a breadwinner. It took time for me to understand that the questions I was asking then about gender and access to money weren’t unique to my life, or the lives of Midwestern white women; they got at some grand-scale problems that people had been writing about for a long time about gender and capitalism. Those are the works that helped me formulate my own memoir.
A hard-hitting work of theory that hinges heavily on Despentes’ personal experience in the worlds of punk and sex work, the French writer and filmmaker goes further than most in her demands for feminist solidarity. Brilliant, fun, and captivating, King Kong Theory sits alongside Paolo Freire, James C. Scott, and Emma Goldman in my personal pantheon of thinkers.
'I write from the realms of the ugly, for the ugly, the frigid, the unfucked and the unfuckables, all those excluded from the great meat market of female flesh, and for all those guys who don't want to be protectors, for those who would like to be but don't know how, for those who are not ambitious, competitive, or well-endowed. Because this ideal of the seductive white woman constantly being waved under our noses - well, I'm pretty sure it doesn't exist.'
Powerful, provocative and personal, King Kong Theory is a candid account of how the author of Baise-moi…
I’m a queer, nonbinary writer who has always loved reading and writing speculative fiction, whether it be dystopian novels, sci-fi, fantasy, and beyond. I think speculative fiction is such an effective and creative way to hold a mirror up to our society, explore traumatic and heavy themes, and ultimately, show us what it means to be a person, no matter how strange or unfamiliar the world is. Like many millennials, I grew up reading that awful transphobic woman’s magical series but soon realized how limiting that series was, and how there were so many better, smarter, more inclusive books out there, especially those that center queer and trans characters and know how to break my heart ten times over.
Full disclosure, I blurbed this knockout of a novel, and I would do it one hundred times over. It takes place in a near-future dystopia ravaged by climate change. However, a billionaire TERF has started a new climate relief program called Inside, which promises a safe and hopeful future for its members (but we all know that’s far from the real story).
Following an unforgettable cast of diverse characters, including some who get accepted to Inside, this book is at once suspenseful, haunting, and revelatory. It’s about queer community, survival, chosen family, paternalism, the harms of white feminism, parenting, freedom vs. control, and hope, always, always hope. It’s highly propulsive, and you’ll probably read it in one sitting just like I did.
The year is 2050. Ava and her girlfriend live in what's left of Brooklyn, and though they love each other, it's hard to find happiness while the effects of climate change rapidly eclipse their world. Soon, it won't be safe outside at all. The only people guaranteed survival are the ones whose applications are accepted to The Inside Project, a series of weather-safe, city-sized structures around the world.
Jacqueline Millender is a reclusive billionaire/women’s rights advocate, and thanks to a generous donation, she’s just become the director of the Inside being built on the bones of Manhattan. Her ideas are…
4.5 billion years ago, Earth was forming - but nothing could have survived there…
From Cells to Ourselves is the incredible story of how life on earth started and how it gradually evolved from the first simple cells to the abundance of life around us today. Walk with dinosaurs, analyse…
I’ve been obsessed with politics and social justice since I was a kid, have been writing professionally for over a decade, and have twice interviewed Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. I wroteThe Rise of a New Left because I was covering a new generation of political candidates who were challenging old orthodoxies, and I was curious about the leftward shift in U.S. politics: where it came from, who was driving it, how deep it went, and how durable it might be. I try to convey a broader and more nuanced view of the American left and give young women and people of color the credit they deserve for reinvigorating it.
Crispin is funny, acerbic, trenchant, and a little bit mean. Her 2017 polemic takes contemporary feminism to task for what she sees as its feckless devolution from fervent, world-changing force to toothless irrelevancy. It’s a challenging read, especially for anyone who is, like me, a longtime feminist. But Crispin’s voice is fresh and compelling, and whether or not you agree with her entirely, her critique is impossible to ignore.
Outspoken critic Jessa Crispin delivers a searing rejection of contemporary feminism . . . and a bracing manifesto for revolution.
Are you a feminist? Do you believe women are human beings and that they deserve to be treated as such? That women deserve all the same rights and liberties bestowed upon men? If so, then you are a feminist . . . or so the feminists keep insisting. But somewhere along the way, the movement for female liberation sacrificed meaning for acceptance, and left us with a banal, polite, ineffectual pose that barely challenges the status quo. In this bracing,…
