100 Books Like The Midnight Library

A timeless meditation on purpose, suffering, and the human spirit. While not about entrepreneurship, this book is essential for anyone seeking to understand the deeper meaning behind their work. Frankl’s insight—that we can find meaning even in suffering—is profoundly relevant for founders navigating hardship and uncertainty. 

What struck me most about it was how Frankl captured the Holocaust not just as a historical event, but as a raw, existential landscape. I’ve seen many films and documentaries about that era, but Frankl’s account stands apart. His lens is philosophical, not just historical. His insight that meaning, not pleasure or power, is the primary driver of human life resonated deeply.

I've focused on the idea myself that many entrepreneurs pursue ventures not for wealth or control, but as a way to fill a deeper existential hole. Frankl’s writing felt honest, profound, and necessary. This is a serious and enduring book I’ll return… show more.

It always seemed unfair to me that not only do we get just one life, but we only get to live it once. So I fell in love with this novel from the moment I read its premise: Ursula Todd is born and dies and is born again… and again… and again.

I love that she doesn’t remember her previous lives except as vague intuitions that help her avoid making the same mistakes twice–and I also love that avoiding those mistakes often means she makes other (often fatal) mistakes. I found this book funny, moving, and thought-provoking, but what I love most about it is the way its down-to-earth, realistic style allowed me to fully inhabit the impossible conceit at its heart. 

This novel is an immersive read with heaps of empathy for all its characters but especially for the two sisters whose perspectives are at the center of the story: the twin who disappears to live a secret life, passing as white, and the twin left behind.

We don’t get the perspective of Stella, the vanished twin, until 14 years after her disappearance, 150 pages into the book. By then, I was fully absorbed in the grief and unanswered questions of the people she’d abandoned, eager to finally know where she’d been all this time and to understand her complex motivations and the emotional and mental toll of relinquishing—and hiding—her racial identity, her community, her sister, and her past. I picked this book up and didn’t put it down until it was done.

Never before—or after—has the apocalypse been as funny and entertaining as in this novel.

What resonated deeply with me was not only the humour and the often deadpan way of delivering it, but that also killed me. I was chuckling or just laughing out loud while reading it. No, I also like the fact that despite all the funny stuff going on, there is a deep underlying warmth in the story. 

This story shows me a mirror and tells me my shortcomings as a human being, but it does so in a nice and embracing way.

I was immediately hooked by this brilliant novel because of its unusual omniscient narrator, the Grim Reaper. Death, stressed out by the surfeit of “clients” he must deal with during World War II, reveals himself to be a sensitive narrator who sees everything. He especially keeps his eye on a young German girl, her loving foster parents, and the Jewish man they hide and protect.

I fell in love with these characters as they struggled with moral decisions, wartime hardship, danger, and tragedy. Despite the realistic portrayal of German life during WWII, I found this book to be an uplifting read. 

I found Christie Tate’s memoir alive with the honest frustration that she felt about how she was feeling despite her success. It made her so relatable, knowing I’ve been in similar mental spaces many times. It was reassuring to be reminded that I am not alone.

When Christie realized she was using her seemingly successful life to cover up and avoid fantasies about dying, I wanted to tell her me too, friend me too. While the group therapy sessions Christie invites us into are unorthodox, she crafts a convincing narrative about their value. One that made space for me to examine my own experiences in therapy with similar honesty.  

I love the exquisite writing and haunting narrative in this book—Ishiguro’s prose is masterful, his imagination precise and engrossing. He creates characters that are poignant, complex, and caught in a world beyond their control. Issues of bioengineering, of empathy, of powerlessness, are beautifully woven through the whole.

I am moved by how this book marries technology and deep emotion, the dystopian with the palpable reality of today’s world, and the rapidly changing technological milieu we live in.

This is a wonderful blend of magic, history, and romance that completely swept me away. I loved how Harkness created a world where science and magic coexist, and the way she weaves historical references into a modern love story stole my heart.

The relationship between Diana and Matthew feels real, complicated, and deeply emotional, and I found myself fully invested in their journey. What really hooked me was the rich world-building, with its intricate details of witches, vampires, and daemons, making it feel like a universe I could dive into again and again. This is an annual reread for me. Book 1 in a wonderful series.

I love this book because of Katniss Everdeen's depth. She’s not just another “kickass hottie”, she’s complex, with a powerful character arc driven by a deep sense of responsibility.

The book’s commentary on mental health and Katniss' parentification resonated with me personally. The story world of all the districts and President Snow's iron grip on them is well-drawn and has parallels to our own, too. 

This is the best novel I’ve read about bubonic plague.

Student historian Kivrin travels back in time to England of the Middle Ages—unknowingly at the start of the Black Death. The cause of Black Death was the plague bacteria, unknown to people of that time.

What makes the book memorable is its depiction of everyday life, where children who get lost in the forest must find their way home by the tolling of the village church bell. Ultimately, the bell tolls for all the plague’s victims.

The vivid characterization makes me experience people of a time so distant their minds feel alien to us, yet still deeply human.