100 Books Like The River Remembers

I loved this book – and read it in one or two sittings – because of how skillfully the author, Megan Nolan, is able to explore the pits of a broken relationship and the attempts and failures of trying to heal.

It pulls no punches in its depiction of what we are willing to do when we believe we are in love and that that love is good, and also in its depiction of what happens to us when the bad reveals itself in all its naked ugliness. Once you’ve read this, you’ll want to read anything else Nolan writes next.

This well-researched and lucidly written book, by art historian Catherine McCormack, traces the representation of women throughout the history of Western art.

McCormack examines a wide range of images featuring female figures—from paintings by Old Masters to contemporary advertising—and pays close attention to the way in which these images betray deep-seated stereotypes about women and contribute to the objectification of female bodies.

This book was indispensable to my research for my book, especially the sections on the aestheticizing of sexual violence in paintings and sculptures. 

The Yellow Wallpaper inspired my book and brand. Gilman not only defined the madwoman of Gothic literature by writing one of the most haunting and empowering stories of the 19th century, but she also lived it. Her experience inspired her story and exposed the horror of hysteria treatments. This story inspired me because I could relate to Gilman and her main character. Though hysteria is no longer a recognized condition and women have gained many more rights, ideologies left over from the hysteria panic still creep in our culture and generational memory. Women are still called crazy. The assumption that women are emotionally unstable is still used to discredit, invalidate and control women. In an era where women couldn’t fight for their rights as we do, Gilman found her power by embracing madness, and so do I.

A RITA Award winner, this sweet, character-driven Regency comes alive with playful Hepburn/Tracy style banter in a May/December romance. An impertinent younger sister, who takes in strays and the wounded, wins the attention of a scarred, slightly singed diplomat. She decides he must be reunited with his family for the holidays. With her rascal brother’s dubious assistance, the three embark on a surprisingly dangerous quest to fulfill heartfelt Christmas wishes.

I cannot resist beautiful, elegant writing, and Hoffman achieves this every time. Set in the Old Testament on the refuge of Masada in Judea, you come to know the lives of four women intimately.

I love substantial, complicated narratives that bring you directly into people’s lives. Each woman is strong and steadfast in what they will do to survive and save their children in lives full of danger. It is a stunningly truthful story and one of my all-time favorite books.

I cannot say enough about this book. I’m a huge fan of anything written by Buck, but this is probably my favorite, primarily for the empowering feminist themes. I love how Buck allows the characters in this story to interact with one another in ways that are subtle but powerful.

This book invites readers to come along with the main character, Madame Wu, as she challenges a rigid set of societal expectations with a clarity that is as unapologetic as it is downright refreshing. Humans are complex creatures, capable of a full range of desires and thinking, and I love it when writers explore this deeply.

A nonfiction book that tells the story of three unrelated women and their unique but universal struggles; I loved it because of the author’s incredible talent for articulating the everyday lived experience of being female, the subtle and overt judgments, and the fact that women are held to different standards, even by other women.

"‘Even when women fight back, they must do it correctly. They must cry the right amount and look pretty but not hot." Many times while reading, I recognised myself, my sister, my mother, and my friends.

All three stories are highly engaging, but the truly compelling story is Maggie’s, a troubled girl from a difficult family who is preyed upon by her teacher, a married man with a family. The subsequent effect on her life is just devastating (remember, folks: this is nonfiction.)

What intrigues me about this book is the way the author, Margaret Atwood, took the (Genesis 30) story of Jacob, who impregnated his wife's handmaiden to produce the children which his wife could not conceive.

She then puts herself in the place of that handmaiden and asks some serious questions. Was that handmaid even given a choice in the matter? What would have happened to her if she had refused? She then rolls the same idea forward 4,000 years to a pseudo religious society in which the sole purpose of handmaidens is to use their bodies to conceive and gestate the next generation for those whom they serve.

I first read Cole’s novella in early 2017, when tensions between white women and women of color over planning the Women’s March were all over the news. This book helped me to understand those tensions in a way that nonfiction accounts simply hadn’t.

In early 20th century Harlem, Black whorehouse owner Bertha takes care to teach her employees how government works, so they’ll be ready to cast their ballots when New York finally grants women the vote. The “good” women of the Colored Women’s Voting League aren’t pleased by the wishes of “bad” Bertha and her girls to join their efforts, especially when Bertha calls out the racism of their purported white “allies.” Bertha’s budding romance with undocumented alien Amir, a Bengali Muslim, compellingly reinforces the larger political themes of the book.

This 2022 psychological thriller was a fun read in so many ways. Like Maum’s novel, it takes a slightly unique approach to the typical affair story, following a young woman whose life is torn apart when her married lover and his wife die, and she is blamed for it (despite not knowing the man was even married!)

In this book, Collins explores the most archaic notion known to man: that people have been blaming women for things since the dawn of time. Literally, since Eve’s consumption of an apple in the Garden of Eden, through the twentieth century, women paid consequences, and men went on their merry way. Flora Collins gives this notion a modern twist. Yes, some things never seem to change—but technology has increased both the risks and the consequences of any relationship.

Vera’s entire life is destroyed by what happens to her; she can’t even return to… show more.