100 Books Like The Frozen Hours

This book is one of my all-time favorites, because even though I knew it was fiction, it felt like nonfiction as I was reading it. It was that authentic, and that alive. I truly felt like I was reading an actual history book about an event from my own world. 

The narrative structure was also amazing, telling the entire story through interviews with survivors of the zombie war, and I was riveted by those stories. They showed me what it was like to face that zombie horror, which made me desperate to know what happened, how they survived, and how they managed. Although I was reading, it felt like I was watching actual people tell their tales.

This is the brass ring of Cold War turns Hot military fiction. I loved what Tom Clancy put down on paper back in 1986 and truly believe that without this book, none of the others on this list would have been written. I loved the depth and detail that Clancy digs into with regard to operational planning as well as tactical combat operations. 

I can’t compliment him enough on his easy explanation of complex systems and operations. If you like “rivet counting” this book is going to blow your mind. As a former Russian linguist for the Navy, I’m impressed with Clancy’s understanding of Soviet politics and strategy. As a self taught civilian, he knocks it out of the park.

When recommending Geraldine Brooks’ multi-layered and intricately crafted March, another book must always be mentioned. Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. March is the Pulitzer Prize-winning historical fiction rooted in Alcott’s classic novel that’s been read and loved for centuries. The March of the title is Jo March’s father in Little Women. In real life, his name was Amos Bronson Alcott. And he was the father of Louisa May Alcott. Brooks tells March’s fictitious story masterfully and with great historical acumen. Her depictions of Henry David Thoreau and Ralph Waldo Emerson are truly historic. Geraldine Brooks is not a historian. Her husband Tony Horwitz was. In Brooks’ case it seems that to fall in love with a historian is to fall in love with history as well. March is the beautiful proof.

I’m a complete sucker for fantasy built around a seemingly unremarkable protagonist who responds to extraordinary circumstances with remarkable strength and courage. Add in a cross-dressing bad-ass heroine, and I’m hooked. This book is, in part, the story of Winter Ihernglass, a young woman who escapes her past by dressing as a man and enlisting in the Vordanai Colonials.

This is a complex novel reminiscent of the Napoleonic wars. The world-building was wonderful, the writing gritty, the military action realistic, but it was the way Winter earned the respect of her fellow soldiers that wouldn’t let go of me.

I cried at the end of this brilliantly crafted novel about the futility of war.

It shows how an unnamed society might respond to ongoing conflict. Both sides have de-humanised the other; both are committed to revenge and retribution for the daily tragedies; and groups on both sides believe there can’t be peace without the total subjugation of the other.

I really appreciate how Nik’s worldview is shaken – and ultimately widened – when he crosses into enemy territory to find a captured friend. This story is a lesson in how peace can never come without justice, or empathy, told through great characters, gripping plot, and nail-biting tension.

(I imagine the unspecified city as being in Australia/New Zealand – the author is from NZ.)

This book largely takes place over a three-day battle. It showcases the stupidity of war, the cowardice, the luck, the incompetence, and yes, sometimes even the breathtaking courage.

As you’d expect from Abercrombie–the so-called Lord of Grimdark–the ‘heroes’ are no such thing, but rather, flawed and broken individuals who go to war out of obligation or ambition or because they know no other way of life.

Joe Abercrombie writes superb action scenes. Visceral, urgent, bloody. He’s also particularly cruel to his characters. I’m not sure if he’s picking on me particularly or if it’s just the dark alchemy of his literary soul that makes him such a popular author, but he’s always a bit of a bastard to the characters I like the most.

I understood this story on a deep, metaphoric level.

Judith is a traumatized teen who disappeared for years and is unable to speak and explain why–which is often the plight of those who have suffered. Silence is a barrier to understanding and healing.

This book reads like poetry and transports you back in time. Life must have been difficult for early Puritan settlers–especially for anyone who was “different” or “afflicted.” The frustration and injustice! The mystery/thriller aspect had me on the edge of my seat! I really wanted things to get better for the main character, who remained graceful in the face of trauma and sadness. This story confirmed my hope that the truth is always eventually revealed and that it does set you free. It was a satisfying read!

The book resonates with me on many levels. Firstly, of course, I’m a combat veteran, so the military and living through the hell of war are part of my identity. The author and I share an innate connection there.

But on a different level, it delves into the intangible burdens that resonate for years after the experience – the grief, the guilt, the terror, even the longing to return because it’s what you know.

The title is explicit, and I share the load with all my fellow veterans.

I loved this star-crossed lovers story. It was dark, mysterious, and achy. In a weird way, it reminded me of the Harry Potter series, in how it was a mystery forever unfolding and I love that about it. It certainly kept me guessing and on the edge of my seat and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

I love this book because it has a very real, gritty feel; I got to walk alongside Parvana and her friends as they dealt with the trauma of the war in Afghanistan. Parvana is a fiercely strong, resilient, and determined 11-year-old girl. Masquerading as a boy, she becomes caregiver to two other children as she journeys amidst the dropping bombs to find her family.

This is the middle book in the Breadwinner trilogy, and I’ve read them all more than once. I so admire the author, Deborah Ellis (a fellow Canadian), who was inspired to write the books after volunteering in an Afghani refugee camp in Pakistan. She has donated millions of dollars in royalties to non-profits supporting women in Afghanistan. Fourteen-year-old me would have loved to read the Parvana books when I was a kid, struggling to broaden my understanding of the world.