Books like The Maiden of Florence — picked by fans

Zina Pavlou is a woman with a past. Her unspeakable acts seem incomprehensible until we are taken across the sea to Cyprus and into her tiny prison cell in the UK, where the true facts emerge.

I found the story compelling, dramatic, and informative, and it landed me disoriented but compassionate inside Zina’s disturbed mind.  

Set in a community obsessed with the evils of Satan, Mary travels across the Atlantic to the newly settled Americas, hoping to escape her family connection with witchcraft. I hated this story as much as I loved it. Not because it was badly written (It wasn’t) but because of its irrationality and superstition, led and facilitated by the dominance of men.

Celia Rees very cleverly conveys the feelings of the times and the hopelessness of women trying to defend themselves against false accusations. I felt for them and read the story quickly in order to satisfy my quest for a happy ending.

Although ostensibly written for a young adult readership (it was shortlisted for the Guardian Children’s Fiction Prize), this is a mature story that is suitable for adults, too. And whilst it is set in the seventeenth century, it is also a cautionary tale of other injustices that still… show more.

Right from the start, I was rooting for Ayana, who lives in this riverboat community in Arkansas. Her only support is her grandmother and brother, Lyle, while all the other men in her story are abusive and cruel. Sadly, no one seems to question their authority, and against this background, illiterate Ayana makes her play.

What I like about this story is the way it is written. At first, Ayana’s voice is presented in dialect, but as the story evolves and her mind clears, so does the text. This is a great structure that accurately represents Ayana’s blossoming personality. 

Samina is a rebel living in a traditional Pakistani community. I loved the tension between the expectations of her extended family set against her intellect and ambition. I found the quiet, subtle support of her mother really appealing, too.

It is a story steeped in drama and tragedy as well as triumph of the spirit. It opened my eyes, made me smile and made me weep. I thoroughly recommend this book for those readers who want quiet voices to be heard. 

This is a pair of novels, French classics that were also made into two memorable movies. In a rural village in Provence, an old man and his only remaining relative cast a greedy eyes on some land. They need a hidden spring that is on the land to irrigate the flowers they intend to grow which they think will make them a fortune. But first, they need to drive out the owner and his family.The father of this family is a hunchback trying to succeed in a hostile world. An evil plot slowly unfolds and comes to tragic fruition. Ten years later, the daughter of the family returns to seek her revenge. A moral tale full of wonderful local detail, like my other choices it features a brave, invincible female protagonist battling overwhelming odds. 

This novel caught my eye for one simple reason—the protagonist attempts to destroy her society with a spreadsheet. Although a fantasy in which the modern world (even office life) is divided between heroes and villains, this novel lands on some brutal truths—like the difference between good and evil is mostly marketing and that some people will do anything for the right job. 

It’s a hilarious book that pokes fun at the most absurd bosses, the things we do for work, and the real harm a toxic workplace or system causes everyone. The supervillain/hero context provides food for thought without slowing the story down or causing work-related cold sweats.

This unexpected discovery—the story of Meg of St. Michael’s Mead in the 14th century—exemplifies the best of what draws readers to historical fiction. First, there's the heroine, Meg, a young woman coming of age and marked by a facial disfigurement. Immediately, we understand her outsider status, her alienation, and her inevitable struggle against others' scapegoating.

This scapegoating stems not only from typical ignorance but also from the very real fears of the time that she might be a child of the Devil. Meg's life and journey are populated with memorable allies and enemies, but it's her determination to cultivate her talents in women's health—despite the opposition of the male medical elite—that lends her story contemporary relevance.

The only male author on this list, Coleman Dowell’s Southern Gothic tale is included because it contains some of the most nuanced writing of female characters I’ve ever encountered. Too Much Flesh tells the narrative of a well-endowed farmer named Jim, his petite wife Effie, and a young man, Jabez, whose mutual obsession with Jim leads to, well, something of a frenetic climax. A story within a story, the tale is told to us by a “spinster schoolteacher” (the book was published in 1977), Miss Ethel, who channels her sexual repression into this story of the farmer.

Neither Miss Ethel nor Jim’s wife, Effie, come across as one-dimensional—they feel and act like real people on the page. Dowell himself was gay and deftly handles this queer narrative in a way that is somehow both quiet and stunning, and makes an interesting case study for the time period and genre. And… show more.

This book is full of petty rivalries and hierarchies that seem high stakes in the moment but, with time and distance, seem absurd. Competition between employees at the LA television station where the novel takes place is cutthroat. There’s no trust, no downtime, and something as simple as taking a day off with the flu can destroy your standing.

This book is chaotic and challenging and somehow perfectly captures the feel of an office in a fast-paced office that takes itself too seriously. I’ve been there, and I felt every moment of this book. Kaplan finds ways to point out how ridiculous our workplaces are while still honouring the experiences of the women who work there. It is highly relatable and wrenching. 

I had to read this when it came out because it felt ripped from the headlines. Sarah Lai has left behind her Hollywood dreams of filmmaking for a quieter, simpler life. But a journalist reaches out and drags her past to the forefront by asking questions about Sarah’s experiences working with a celebrated producer. There have been… complaints. From women. A lot of women.

Sound familiar? This is a wholly fictional take on past events, but it also forces the reader to examine the ways in which we might be complicit in holding up systems, and what we can do to break bad patterns.

Engaging, timely, and I couldn’t put it down. Again, women find their voices and stand up for other women around them. That’s a narrative I can’t miss.