100 Books Like The Singer

This book was like a fisherman with bait on the hook. I was the fish; the fantasy setting and the author’s magnificent ability with words were the bait.

Mary Stewart was, of course, the sportswoman out to snag something in my soul. I was prepared to be entertained, but the story carried a surprising amount of weight, asking questions like What do we live for? Can humanity ever be enough? Merlin came into an understanding of his place in the world — not through romance or fantasy adventures as we so typically read —  but through internal revelation.

With his journey, I was invited into soulful reflection and some uncomfortable truths of my own. In the end, I decided Mary Stewart knew very well what she was doing. The stinker.

I loved Till We Have Faces, but not just for the most obvious reasons, like the story’s content. For me, it was the realization that C.S. Lewis was allowing me to discover the meaning of the story gradually.

The novel invited me into a mystery and let revelation slowly come. I’ve found so many of my greatest ah-ha! moments in life have come this way—not because someone preached a message, or commanded me… Not because a person told me the answers up front… Not even necessarily because outside circumstances demanded it. The much-needed revelation slowly unfolded in my heart and mind as I probed (and sometimes wrestled) for the truth.

I was quietly led and guided to the truth… and that’s exactly what this story does.

There were so many things I loved about Son of the Shadows when I stumbled upon it in a second-hand book store decades ago.

The story was immersive and intense. But the quality I loved most had to be that, buried beneath its movie-like adventures, its poetic blend of fantasy and history, and its spiritually rich thoughts, was a story of redemption.

I found so few authors allow for the kind of redemption that tempestuous Bran was given. My whispering hope that he would come out at the end of the novel no longer broken blossomed into full-blown wonder as his damaged soul took its first steps towards daylight… and he started living again. I thought to myself, “I'm gonna write just like that when I grow up.”

I grew as a person after reading Outlaws of Sherwood, largely because McKinley penned this mythic retelling of the story in such an introspective way.

I realized that life was grounded in reality, not in the fantastical, possibly “legendary” things that are said about us… or done to us. I also realized the difficult choices I had to make in the midst of conflict didn’t entirely define me—though they might in the eyes of everyone else.

What was more influential to my own life story (and vitally important) was my own inner perspective—the way I viewed myself, the way I related to my own situation, whether healthy or unhealthy. This story shaped me as a person and set the stage for me as an inward-looking writer.

Pullman sets out – and achieves, with his usual aplomb – to subvert the stories of Jesus, indeed to divide them: his Jesus and his Christ are two entirely separate figures. Pullman uses a deliberate echo of Biblical style, to show how the Bible stories are first and foremost just that: stories. To show how history became myth and then myth became faith. How the very hypocrisies that Jesus himself pointed out – people mouthing religious observances, without the accompanying good deeds – became an almost fundamental structure of the established church. 

Fiona leaves no stone unturned as she describes the journey of her years dabbling with drugs and alcohol brought on by the trauma of growing up adopted. Fiona shows a true spirit of determination to fight through her adoption traumas of rejection and abandonment. I wondered all the way through this book whether she would succeed or if her experiences would eventually be too much for one person to bear.

We want kids to learn that peacemaking is first an inside job. And we can experience this peace in the presence of God. Before we respond to the conflicts around us, God wants to calm the conflict within us. This is a big part of what it means to know Him as the Good Shepherd.

This book makes David’s most famous song into a meditative prayer–and it helps parents invite their children into the peace of God. If our kids can learn to slow down and find peace through being with the good Shepherd from their youngest ages, they will naturally become peacemakers as an overflow of His leading! 

To my mind, this one is a game-changer. It seems a niche subject—the ways that Jesus’ death is interpreted in NT texts as a sacrifice—but, Man Alive, it was one of the most eye-opening and engrossing books I’ve read in years.

Rillera argues that many Christians have significantly misunderstood Jesus’ death. All that stuff about Jesus taking the punishment for our sins and dying so we don’t have to, he says, is not in the Bible! Sounds nuts, right? That’s why I found it such an arresting book.

And the resulting teaching on Jesus’ death makes a heck of a lot more sense to me. I love books that make me rethink stuff I took for granted. This is one. (Warning: a tightly argued book, so demands some concentration.)

Sarah Young writes as if Jesus is speaking to the reader, “All I require of you is to take the next step, clinging to my hand for strength and direction.” This book speaks to me, especially in difficult years. It brings me to an awareness of God’s comfort and love for me. Simple, short daily readings are based on scripture. Sitting with this book in the morning is like spending time with Jesus. 

I found it very difficult to put this book down!

The author takes you on a journey of discovery through the Scriptures from beginning to end, focusing on the scarlet thread that runs through the whole story. The book is a very quick read, filled with incredible insights and symbolism that unveils the Bible’s central message in all its beauty.

This is also recommended for anyone, regardless of their knowledge of the Bible.