Books like The Shock of the Fall — picked by fans

I really don't know how Catriona Ward manages to balance the languid sadness and unrelenting tension so well.

Ward's profound empathy for every single character, no matter how flawed, is what twists your heart. At the same time, you feel as though you're on a roller coaster barreling at breakneck speed through pitch-black tunnels.

I wasn't always sure I understood what was going on from moment to moment, and that seems very much by design because, wow, what a twist! And the deeply felt depiction of the characters never made me feel like I was truly lost. I will indulge a great deal of mystery as long as it is presented by such a steady and skillful hand.

Christine has a brain injury, which causes her memories to degrade every time she sleeps. She wakes up every morning as a blank slate, and her devoted husband explains who she is and then helps her get through the day. Unbeknownst to him, she starts keeping a journal—and soon realizes that his story about how she was injured is a little different each time.

I'm never in the mood for a thriller with a big twist in the penultimate chapter. I always want one with a big twist at the end of every chapter, and this book absolutely delivers. Is the husband a good guy or a bad guy? I changed my mind a dozen times over the course of this book, expertly manipulated by the author. I read the whole thing aloud to my wife on a long drive, and the time went by in a blink.

What I love about this book is that Christopher is such an unusual child and sees the world in ways that most of us do not.

In reading this bizarre and disturbing mystery story, we begin to see the world differently ourselves. I like, too, the fact that what is different about him is never named – it’s not some specific diagnosis or categorization – he is just Christopher, the odd, mathematically gifted, strangely reacting, teenager.

When he becomes terrified of what we might take as quite ordinary events and places, I begin to feel some of his difference – to feel what it might be like to be so much an outsider. It helped me to remember that we are all different.

This book inspired me to write my own account of dealing with my mum’s Alzheimer’s.

This darkly comic yet gripping novel reveals the humorous aspects of the disease. Maud, an eighty-year-old who grapples with forgetting even the cup of tea she just made or recognising her own daughter, surprisingly unravels a seventy-year-old mystery.

The story delicately weaves warm and uplifting moments with touches of comedy, anxiety, and sheer terror that arise when one realises the advancing years and the struggle to be heard in a society that often overlooks the elderly. The portrayal of dementia in this novel is both sympathetic and profoundly moving, capturing the emotional complexity of the experience.

Maud's character is both exasperating and compelling, embodying the kind of older protagonist I yearn to encounter more in literature.

A harrowing and beautiful tale of two sisters growing up with a paranoid schizophrenic mother. The author describes a fine line between gentle artistic creativity and debilitating mental illness. The reader will come away with a better understanding of how deeply children are affected growing up in a dysfunctional and traumatic environment. A mother's love and a journey to forgiveness teach us the complex meaning of love.

Maybe I am gullible. Maybe everything I thought I knew was a lie. I don’t know anymore.

This is how this book left me feeling. And I’m not mad at all. But if I ever believed the ravings of a mad-man, I believed Horselover Fat’s. Every last damn word.

There was truly a scary blurring of lines here between what could happen and what actually did happen.

Did you love Calvin and Hobbes when you were a child? How about as an adult? If so, you will love Martine Leavitt’s Calvin. Calvin, in this novel, is a schizophrenic teen who is convinced that Hobbes is real. He thinks if he can walk across frozen Lake Erie – with the girl he loves, Suzie – and convince Bill Watterson to write one more Calvin cartoon, he will be healed. 

This book is a brilliant exploration of mental health and relationships, rooted in characters you already know and love.  

Lily’s mom has schizophrenia and Lily is terrified that she might get it too. Lily gets personally involved in a story at her newspaper internship about an abandoned elephant calf. Feeling a kinship with the elephant, Lily goes through extraordinary lengths to make sure the calf finds a safe home, while at the same time, realizing that she has begun to show signs of mental illness. Fischer combines mental illness, family, friendship, and animal welfare into a riveting, thought-provoking book. I loved how she showed the reader how a character can live with the early stages of schizophrenia without losing her sense of self and purpose. 

Part memoir, part investigative journalism, Ron Powers’s book offers a scorching indictment of the American mental health system, interwoven with the heartbreaking story of his two sons as they battle schizophrenia. Powers traces the historical neglect, the shame, the misinformation and mistreatment of people with mental illness while offering a deeply personal perspective on the impact such conditions have on families.

Passionate, informative, and empathetic, this book sheds light on the urgent need for mental health reform and societal compassion. I ached for Ron Powers and his need to shed light on a subject that pushes people to the margins of society.

This quintessential Arthur Machen collection of thirteen of his most highly praised stories and short novels was my introduction to Arthur Machen, and like Rider Haggard’s work, affected me deeply, to the extent that I eventually needed to “soak up some Arthur Machan country” and flew to Wales (from California) for no other purpose.

Arthur Machen is known best for the exceptionally vivid, mind-numbingly creepy horror stories that he wrote in the late 1880s, which have hugely inspired Lovecraft, Stephen King, and T.E.D. Kline, among many others. Machen’s work is, nearly all of it, alchemical; that is, by some divine magic, he made mere words and sentences seem far more than the sum of their parts; when he strung together any eight words, they would always sound more charming than the same eight words strung together by any other author.