Books like The Storyteller — picked by fans

This book hit me as both tragic and strangely hopeful.

Chris McCandless walked into the Alaskan wilderness with little more than a backpack and a stubborn streak, and people have argued ever since: was he brave, reckless, or just plain stupid? But his compulsion isn’t as rare as we might think. In my book, Cole feels the same tug—escape the sterile shoebox apartment and the $8 lattes. This can’t be all there is.

What drew me in wasn’t the verdict but his hunger for something real—stripping away every layer of artifice most of us cling to. Krakauer tells it with empathy and curiosity, letting you wrestle with the questions instead of handing you neatly typed answers. I recommend it because it forces you to stare down your own compromises: freedom versus responsibility, idealism versus pragmatism.

Admire Chris or dismiss him, you won’t forget him. And the story lingers like a… show more.

This book literally changed my life and my relationships with myself and others forever. Before this book, I was living my life through the filters of my stories of right and wrong, how things ‘should’ be done, and doing my best to trust my instincts and intuition. I underestimated the power of words, including my words. I made assumptions about people and situations, and autopilot guided my path through the best and worst of challenges and opportunities.

This book, along with the Fifth Agreement, opened my mind to the human condition of subconscious programming. I read the book, listened to the book, and listened to the book while reading the book to deeply embrace the truths presented.

Thanks to all books published by the Ruiz family, which share the Toltec traditions with the world, I have found grace and compassion for the weight and impact of my own stories,… show more.

Few books have made me question my own life quite like Untamed.

I didn't connect with this book because my life is anything like Glennon Doyle's—it isn't. I connected with it because she puts words to something I think many of us experience: the quiet pressure to become the person everyone else expects us to be. It made me ask myself a deeply uncomfortable question: Whose life am I actually living?

I found myself thinking about all the ways expectations can slowly shape who we are, often so quietly that we don't even realise it is happening. How much of who we are is actually us—and how much of it is the version we've learned to perform for everyone else?

I kept thinking about how much courage it takes to stop performing and start listening to yourself instead.

I love that this book does such a great job of capturing the many incongruities and quirks of life in South Africa, a country with such a complex, troubled history that it is still struggling to reconcile.

It’s a country of immense diversity (racially, politically, and culturally), which leads to some absurd situations. Some funny, some tragic. And it’s set against an incredibly unique and beautiful natural backdrop, and it’s at the bottom of the world, literally representing the global south/periphery. So there’s a ton of dramatic tension inherent.

I also relate with Noah’s story just in terms of the cross-cultural element; growing up with parents from different places and never quite fitting in. And yet he tackles these very serious, very bleak situations and experiences, at both the micro and macro levels, with humor.

This isn’t a book about addiction, but it had a massive impact on the way I approached recovery.

James Clear believes changing your life doesn’t happen with one huge decision, but through the small choices you make every day. Getting sober was one big decision for me, but staying sober meant completely changing my routines and building habits that supported the person I wanted to become.

Working with my life coach, journalling, surfing, training, and taking time to sit with my thoughts might seem like small things on their own, but together they helped me rebuild my life. This book taught me to stop relying on motivation and start creating a routine that made it easier to keep moving forward even on days when I didn’t feel like it.

Patti Smith’s book beautifully chronicles her intense and formative friendship with the groundbreaking artist Robert Mapplethorpe as they navigated the vibrant and often gritty art scene of late 1960s and 1970s New York City.

Theirs wasn’t a fairytale romance, but a complex, evolving bond between two flawed yet undeniably brilliant creatives. Reading about their struggles, their artistic pursuits within the legendary Chelsea Hotel, and the wider New York City scene evoked a strong sense of nostalgia for me, a time and place I've always found artistically inspiring.

The exploration of their creative partnership, the push and pull between them as individuals finding their artistic voices, is something I’ve often yearned for but haven’t quite experienced in such a profound way.

This is a candid autobiography of an unlikely rock star. Relying on her early journals, Carly Simon conveys the details of her privileged childhood and storybook career as a singer/songwriter. Woven through her musical accomplishments are her relationships – primarily her marriage to James Taylor – but also with Warren Beatty, Mick Jagger, Jack Nicholson, Cat Stephens, and Kris Kristofferson. 

This is a compelling, detailed history of three influential singer/songwriters – Carole King, Joni Mitchell, and Carly Simon. Their early careers were wildly different, yet intersected in unexpected ways as they each found their unique paths to success. What I love most about this deftly written account is that specific songs are set in their historical context, so you better understand what was happening with the artist at that time and gain new insights into the songs that still resonate today, fifty years later.

In the space of one year (1970), the Beatles broke up, James Taylor became an overnight star, and Simon and Garfunkle reached the height of their popularity, Crosby Stills Nash & Young formed a wildly successful group and then disbanded. Their stories intertwine in unexpected ways, embroidered with interactions of dozens of other rock icons who would shape the music of the seventies. 

This book was like a light bulb switched on suddenly in my brain. Free-floating feelings of uncertainty and anxiety about the decisions I was making and the inexplicable state of our world were literally keeping me up at night. Questions I’d been asking of myself, and of no one in particular, amounted to general complaints: ‘Why is this happening?’ ‘Where is all the anger coming from?’ ‘When will things get better?’

What I learned was the importance of going deeper and asking questions that might actually lead to answers. Or at least to gain an understanding of someone else’s perspective. And definitely to have a clearer insight into my own beliefs and motivations. I learned that asking more resulted in replacing my perpetual sense of uncertainty with something more useful and actionable.