Books like The Midnight Train — picked by fans

I want to acknowledge right at the start that some troubling accusations have come to light about Neil Gaiman. I completely respect someone’s decision to avoid his books if that seems right to them. I struggle with the alleged actions of the author and find that I still love this novel.

For younger readers (and those who love books for younger readers), this novel introduces us to the tender side of the uncanny. A community of ghosts who raise an orphaned boy. A vampire and a werewolf who become his mentors and guardians. Once again, we are invited to see death as a natural part of life.

And, oh my gosh, is this novel funny! And charming, and lyrical, and beautiful.

I love the way the magic moves through this novel in quiet, intimate ways.

It’s never flashy, nor is the magic there only for the sake of excitement. It whispers a twisted love. It’s dreadful and beautiful, both to Addie LaRue and to the reader. Because of it, Addie changes. Addie lives in our world, in historical times and today, and the magic exists in our world. 

One of the things I love about literary fantasy is that the main characters have true emotional arcs. We’re drawn into their experiences because we care about them. The questions they ask themselves are ones we all ask: Who do I want to be? What makes life meaningful? What do we owe the people we love?

This is a great adventure with high stakes, both for the world and for the main character.

She is an ordinary person who rises to the moment again and again when she must. She’s scared, but she’s brave. She’s resilient and clever. She’s really lovable.

In this novel, magic suffuses the world through a secret society. And the power is in books. I mean, we all know the power of books, right? And here, as in Addie LaRue, magic has consequences. It can be beautiful and create lovely connections between and among people. And it can also wreak untold destruction.

Bottom line, I loved the concept and the characters equally.

This novel blends genres in a masterful way.

It’s magical realism, romance, fantasy, horror, and action-adventure. And none of the genres is given short shrift. Again, a magical society threatens the world as we know it, as well as the main character. The main character, a flawed human being, learns her own worth, rises above her limitations, and finds the courage to act. And to love. 

I found this novel to be rich in ideas, a wonderful insight into the early days of WWII in London, full of delightfully quirky characters, truly scary in a real-stakes way (not the cheap-scare thriller way), and truly moving.

Caveat to the reader: it ends on a cliffhanger. If you can’t bear waiting, don’t start this novel until the next one is published. 

In my opinion, one of the finest living writers in the English language, Winterson masterfully spins a tale of historical, poetic, eccentric, dreamy and highly sensual, and gender-bending eroticism involving an androgynous hero during the Napoleonic era, and taking place in the kitchens of the emperor, on the battlefield and along the freezing march into Russia, as well as amid the canals of Venice. Always thought-provoking and rife with magical realism and plain heart-stopping imagery, tension, and poetry, Winterson tells her story in a manner that will—if not change your ideas about everything—certainly challenge them. I always feel inspired to stretch my understanding wider—and I actually fall deeply in love with the world all over again—each time I finish a novel by Winterson.

Cesca Major's book is my pick in the spate of recent time-loop novels that feature romance. The Groundhog Day concept, where the protagonist repeats the same day over and over to (hopefully) get it right, is fertile ground for a great romance. Who hasn’t wished they could get a do-over with a loved one or potential partner? 

Our protagonist, Emma, keeps reliving the day her husband, Dan, died after being hit by a car after a marital fight. I love Emma’s agony in trying all the possibilities to avoid Dan’s death, to the extent of virtually driving her insane. The lack of consequences, given she always wakes up on the Monday morning, is another thing that pushes her to increasing extremes.

This is not a typical romance, but the focus on saving her marriage no matter what makes this book a perfect magic-realism romantic novel. I also adore the London… show more.

Tyger grabbed me with its opening lines: "It happened in the 21st century, when London was still the capital of an Empire, and the Empire still ruled the world…"

Adam, our young hero is running from a thief when he comes across a magical creature, a wounded Tyger. Powerful enemies are hunting the Tyger, to save her, Adam and his friend Zadie must develop the power to open their own ‘doors of perception’ and overcome the forces of evil.

Tyger is a vivid, beautifully written adventure that feels timeless, with philosophical echoes of William Blake and stunning illustrations by Dave McKean.

Nobody does characters like Jess Kidd. Every person in this story is bizarre—a monster, misfit, or malefactor—yet not one feels contrived. I adored Bridie Devine, a small, rotund, pipe-smoking detective who begins to see the same ghost everywhere she goes.

Bridie’s quarry is a strange girl who’s been kidnapped and might (depending on who you ask) have supernatural powers or be a “lovely grotesque” who’s caught the eye of collectors. I fell in love with Kidd’s imaginative Victorian London, where nothing is as it seems, and evil lurks around every bend.

I really admire Raymond Briggs’ work; he’s a wonderful storyteller and a fantastic artist with a great eye for colour. Ethel & Ernest is a beautiful book. The strip-cartoon format works well and makes for an intense reading experience. Whilst this book has lots of humour and light, it also features some dark topics such as the Second World War, mental illness, and bereavement. It is generally considered unsuitable for children under the age of twelve. It’s a charming love story and a vivid social record. I find it heartbreaking at times. It becomes even more touching when you remember that it is based on Briggs’ own family.

I met Kevin Sacco when he was an advertising storyboard artist. Kevin knew how to sell the story of an ad simply and dramatically in a series of graphic panels with an economy of words. In Sevenoaks, I see the same brain at work. His book is based on his life: a ‘60s-era New York City high school kid sent to an elite private school outside London. Sacco’s distinctive elongated and restrained figures, beautifully drawn geometric and airy cityscapes, and genial pace can lull one into a sense of calm, so that his moments of high and even magical drama slice more deeply into the emotions. One might be surprised to discover an unexpected tear.