Here are 100 books that The Infinite Sadness of Small Appliances fans have personally recommended if you like
The Infinite Sadness of Small Appliances.
Book DNA is a community of 13,000+ authors and super readers sharing their favorite books with the world.
I have loved reading since I was a child. Books can take you places you will never go otherwise. That’s why it’s so important to have good, clean books that take you places you want to go and books that don’t strand you somewhere you don’t want to be. As a YA author myself, I am passionate about providing literature for teens that is adventurous and relatable, without the spice that often flavors today’s books. I hope you love diving into this list of clean recommendations!
When Thea comes with her dad to the Double R Guest Ranch to help Tully open the place back up, she doesn’t expect to find a decades-old mystery hidden among the old records. She also doesn’t expect to reconnect with horses, the beautiful animals her mother used to train.
This novel is a fantastic coming-of-age story, with grief, loss, and reconciliation sprinkled throughout. An engaging mystery flavors it further, making this book hard for me to put down.
Thea and her dad are always on the move, from one small Cariboo town to another, trying to leave behind the pain of Thea's mom's death.
They never stay long enough in one place for Thea to make friends, but when her dad gets work renovating a guest ranch on Gumboot Lake, she dares to hope that their wandering days are over. At the ranch she makes friends with Van, a local boy, and works hard to build the trust of an abused horse named Renegade. When Thea unearths the decades-old story of a four-year-old girl who disappeared from the…
A moving story of love, betrayal, and the enduring power of hope in the face of darkness.
German pianist Hedda Schlagel's world collapsed when her fiancé, Fritz, vanished after being sent to an enemy alien camp in the United States during the Great War. Fifteen years later, in 1932, Hedda…
I worked for the last 25 years teaching literature classes and creative writing workshops—most of that time at the University of California at Davis. The students in my classes were mainly English majors and/or young writers. They tended to be serious about the potential of a text. To be serious, today, in America, about the potential of a text is to dwell in an inherently counter-cultural position. It is to conceive of the value of a text as something surpassing entertainment, i.e., use. Such a surpassing is a blasphemous notion… still tolerated in the context of the University. Its proliferation beyond those boundaries seems unworkable.
What one expects to happen, in the context of a story, is a wholly unacceptable outcome… save one does not feel the story is obligated to resound with consciousness of mortality. Consciousness of mortality is not cruel in and of itself; the one who causes it to resound in the form of a story, however, might be. Cruel, that is.
This, I think, is a very cruel book. But its cruelty is the cruelty of an honest physician met with a diseased patient. His unflinching diagnosis of the disease and the difficult (painful) operations it necessitates… are simply what remaining alive calls for. The alternative, that is, is always the same thing: brief (however apparently eternal) dementia.
From the Winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature. J.M. Coetzee's latest novel, The Schooldays of Jesus, is now available from Viking. Late Essays: 2006-2016 will be available January 2018.
"Compulsively readable... A novel that not only works its spell but makes it impossible for us to lay it aside once we've finished reading it." -The New Yorker
At fifty-two, Professor David Lurie is divorced, filled with desire, but lacking in passion. When an affair with a student leaves him jobless, shunned by friends, and ridiculed by his ex-wife, he retreats to his daughter Lucy's smallholding. David's visit becomes an…
A great book can supplant your consciousness and bring you into a new headspace of altered mood and perception. Good writing about elevated human experiences can elevate the reader, as the words on the page inspire the release of "feel-good" neurochemicals like endorphins, serotonin, and dopamine. These are the effects I seek to produce in my readers’ experience – I want them to feel the buzzes and the highs and lows my characters feel. In Death By Cannabis, by focusing on the legalization of weed in Canada, I sought to tap into the passionate subculture and complex emotions the emancipation of pot brought to the surface after simmering so long underground.
What I loved most about Night Boat to Tangier is the same thing I love about all of Kevin Barry’s books – the delivery.
Whether it’s City of Bohane, The Heart in Winter, Beatlebone, or this book, the best part of a Kevin Barry novel is always the writing and the voice. The story is almost secondary.
You might expect the story of a seasoned drug importer reuniting with his estranged daughter to be a spectacle, but what I loved about this book was the way many of the tendrils of the story were allowed to uncurl slowly, and some not at all.
I like to imagine Kevin Barry was at the ferry station one day and looked at a couple of aging, shaved-head, tattooed Irish thugs leaning against a wall waiting, and asked, “What’s their story?” Then he wrote it.
LONGLISTED FOR THE BOOKER PRIZE IRISH TIMES NUMBER ONE BESTSELLER SHORTLISTED FOR NOVEL OF THE YEAR AT THE IRISH BOOK AWARDS, THE DALKEY LITERARY AWARDS AND THE KERRY GROUP AWARDS A BOOK OF THE YEAR IN THE NEW YORK TIMES, NEW STATESMAN, TIMES LITERARY SUPPLEMENT, BIG ISSUE, i, THE ATLANTIC and LITERARY HUB
'A true wonder' Max Porter 'Beautifully written' Guardian
It's late one night at the Spanish port of Algeciras and two fading Irish gangsters are waiting on the boat from Tangier. A lover has been lost, a daughter has gone missing, their world has come asunder - can…
One terrible lie, a desperate measure to save her past, just might destroy her future…
Magnolia Merryweather, a horse breeder, is eager to celebrate Christmas for the first time after the Civil War ended, even as she grows her business. She envisions a calm, prosperous life ahead after the terror…
COVID killed my father early on during the pandemic. Every day, I blogged about him. First, when he was in the ICU and I was begging the universe to save him. Then, after he died, as I grieved in a world that seemed cold and lonely. I wrote about Dad, telling stories of happier times, to keep him alive through my memories and to share his life with others. Soon, friends started recommending books about grief. In reading, feeling, and absorbing the pain of others, I somehow felt less alone.
Even though Adichie’s father did not die from COVID, it happened during the pandemic when the world shut down. To this, I could relate all too well.
I spent the pandemic, and months afterward, grieving my father’s death, and I found comfort reading the stories of other daughters whose dads have died.
A personal and powerful essay on loss from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, the bestselling author of Americanah and Half of a Yellow Sun.
'Grief is a cruel kind of education. You learn how ungentle mourning can be, how full of anger. You learn how glib condolences can feel. You learn how much grief is about language, the failure of language and the grasping for language'
On 10 June 2020, the scholar James Nwoye Adichie died suddenly in Nigeria.
In this tender and powerful essay, expanded from the original New Yorker text, his daughter, a self-confessed daddy's girl, remembers…
As a reader and an author, I prefer young adult novels because they tend to focus more on character growth and development than other genres, but I’m particularly drawn to both historical and fantasy period pieces in books and film. The medieval ages especially, with their castles and feudalistic way of life, have always fascinated me. This fascination was largely filled by reading and watching fairy tales and novel adaptations while growing up. Nowadays, I gravitate toward retellings like a moth to the flame, as I get to relive stories that have a special place in my heart in a fresh new way.
This atmospheric novel, a retelling of The Island of Doctor Moreau, is a perfect blend of gothic romance and haunting mystery. It’s beautifully written, well-paced, and filled with unexpected twists. I love the feminist theme presented through the main character, Juliet, who is independent despite the hardships she endures, is not dissuaded from pursuing her passion for science even though it wasn’t proper for a woman to do so at the time. There is also an underlying theme throughout the book that expertly juxtaposes sanity and madness, eliciting the question of where the line should be drawn.
For fans of Libba Bray, this first book in a gothic suspense trilogy is inspired by H. G. Wells's The Island of Dr. Moreau and has been hailed by New York Times bestseller Carrie Ryan as having "beautiful writing, breakneck pacing, a pulse-pounding mystery, and an irresistible romance."
Following accusations that her scientist father gruesomely experimented on animals, sixteen-year-old Juliet watched as her family and her genteel life in London crumbled around her—and only recently has she managed to piece her world back together. But when Juliet learns her father is still alive and working on a remote tropical island,…
Researching my novel Set in Stone, I did some hands-on carving in Jurassic limestone—I loved the fact that the materials and techniques are fundamentally unchanged over hundreds of years. My tutor is an expert in letter-cutting, and soon I wanted to try that, exacting though it is. This became an ingredient of my new novel. I began to think of a female character, dedicated to her solitary craft, very independent, but becoming involved in complicated relationships nevertheless. She walked into my mind very confidently as Meg, one of my three viewpoint characters. I hope you’ll enjoy my book selection!
This book includes one of the most famous portrayals of a sculpture on stage, and is one of my favorite Shakespeare plays. One of his later works, it combines a story very like the tragedy of Othello with a second half that has an entirely different mood of youth and hope, love, and redemption.
In the play’s final scene (spoiler alert!), a party including King Leontes and his newly-found daughter, Perdita, gathers to admire the work of a celebrity sculptor, Julio Romano. The statue perfectly depicts Leontes’ wronged wife, Hermione, whom he believed dead.
In this glorious moment, Hermione comes back to him in the form of a living statue stepping down from its pedestal. There’s a delightful ballet version of the play, too.
The Winter's Tale, one of Shakespeare's very late plays, is filled with improbabilities. Before the conclusion, one character comments that what we are about to see, "Were it but told you, should be hooted at / Like an old tale."
It includes murderous passions, man-eating bears, princes and princesses in disguise, death by drowning and by grief, oracles, betrayal, and unexpected joy. Yet the play, which draws much of its power from Greek myth, is grounded in the everyday.
A "winter's tale" is one told or read on a long winter's night. Paradoxically, this winter's tale is ideally…
Pete West, a political columnist, travels to Prague to find a missing diplomat, later found murdered. He attempts to discover more about a cryptic note received from the diplomat and is immediately entangled in the secret Bilderberg Club’s strategy to form a world federation.
I grew up in central Arkansas, which means I experienced first-hand the fiction I describe here. The South in these books - its religion, poverty, and beauty, not to mention its capacity for real ugliness - is not simply an atmosphere these authors have used to decorate their sets. The South in these books is a place where real people live, in exactly the ways these writers have described. My novella, Six Mile Store, is my own take on the real South. These are the books that showed me that these kinds of Southern stories are worth telling.
Ree Dolly is seventeen, raising her little brothers because her mother is too mentally unwell to do it herself, while her meth-cooking father has gone missing. His disappearance will ruin her already impoverished family if Ree cannot figure out what has happened.
Woodrell's Ozarks are in the same territory as my own debut, in pretty much every way: geographically, culturally, and in terms of the drug epidemic that continues to destroy American communities, especially in the South. Ree and Honey would probably never meet. But the same forces shaped them both, and the same neglect threatens them.
This is the book I would assign as required reading for anyone who is interested in what my book is trying to do.
This is a fiercely original tale of love, heartbreak and resilience in the lonely wastes of the American Midwest. The last time Ree saw her father, he didn't bring food or money but promised he'd be back soon with a paper sack of cash and a truckload of delights. Since he left, she's had to look after her mother - sedated and losing her looks - and her two younger brothers. Ree hopes the boys won't turn out like the others in the Ozark mountains - hard and mean before they've learnt to shave. One cold winter's day, Ree discovers…
I grew up in a family of readers who valued humor above all else. I’ve always sought out novels that weren’t full of themselves or too serious. For example, I don’t actually like literature for the most part (sacrilege?) As a result, I’ve veered toward upmarket genre books that amuse me. My list reflects what I discovered as I explored this realm. It also led me to write mysteries and thrillers that are infused with my version of humor, which I must admit will never match the authors on my list. These guys are amazing.
Fforde takes literary characters and brings them to life in a mystery format. Inside jokes about them and well-constructed absurd situations kept me amused. I admire the creativity and imagination a book like this requires. The plot is also ingenious, with unexpected twists and turns.
I’d say I never read a book like it, but I’ve read others by him, and he continues to create fun novels with literary and fairy tale characters. I recommend all of them.
Meet Thursday Next, literary detective without equal, fear or boyfriend
Jasper Fforde's beloved New York Times bestselling novel introduces literary detective Thursday Next and her alternate reality of literature-obsessed England-from the author of The Constant Rabbit
Fans of Douglas Adams and P. G. Wodehouse will love visiting Jasper Fforde's Great Britain, circa 1985, when time travel is routine, cloning is a reality (dodos are the resurrected pet of choice), and literature is taken very, very seriously: it's a bibliophile's dream. England is a virtual police state where an aunt can get lost (literally) in a Wordsworth poem and forging Byronic…
I’m a writer who grew up in the Midwest, moved away for a while, and has now raised my own kids here. I love reading other writers' takes on what kinds of stories they see unfolding here. As I get older, I realize that great stories can grow out of the ground anywhere, with the right amount of sunshine, darkness, and water.
I'm not usually much for food writing. (I mean, it's good, or it's bad, right ?). But this novel, which centers around food and what it means to us, kept me riveted all the way through.
It's hard to explain exactly why the book is so compelling, but it's by turns funny and moving, and the plot sort of spirals inward in a way I’ve never seen before.
“An impressive feat of narrative jujitsu . . . that keeps readers turning the pages too fast to realize just how ingenious they are.”—The New York Times Book Review, Editor’s Pick
From the New York Times bestselling author of The Lager Queen of Minnesota, Kitchens of the Great Midwest is a novel about a young woman with a once-in-a-generation palate who becomes the iconic chef behind the country’s most coveted dinner reservation.
When Lars Thorvald’s wife, Cynthia, falls in love with wine—and a dashing sommelier—he’s left to raise their baby, Eva, on his…
In 2015, I moved to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, a world all its own. I live only four blocks from Lake Superior, and I can’t imagine living anywhere without that lake. I pay much more attention to the weather—those waves really crash during Winter storms—and I’ve become more interested in things like geology and local history since moving to such a unique place. Everything I notice eventually enters my poetry, which has become filled with water, shorelines, copper, and white deer. And best of all, our long winters give me a lot of time to read.
This book appealed to me because of its strong central character, Helena, who’s carrying around a big secret. Let’s face it—we all have secrets. But most of our secrets are comparatively minor. Helena’s is anything but. Helena’s past is complicated, which makes the plot complicated, just the way I like plots, but the book is still easy enough to follow.
I was interested to see how Helena appreciated some aspects of her past life, even if most people would consider her present life much better. I kept wanting to know more about this imagined place in the U.P., which seemed so strange even though it’s not that far from St. Ignace or Sault Ste. Marie or even the Mackinaw Bridge.
You'd recognise my mother's name if I told it to you. You'd wonder, briefly, where is she now? And didn't she have a daughter while she was missing?
And whatever happened to the little girl?
Helena's home is like anyone else's. With a husband and two daughters, and a job she enjoys. But no one knows the truth about her childhood.
Born into captivity and brought up in an isolated cabin until she was 12, Helena was raised to be a killer by the man who kept her captive - her own father.
