100 Books Like The Tenth Insight

I was overwhelmed by this crazy, lovable, frightening novel. It fit right in with my paranormal/horror bend when I read it many years ago, and it provoked my interest in writing a few titles in the genre.

It fits the unique, quirky character theme perfectly with a first person narrative by a young, charismatic fry cook-writer-memoirist named Odd (real name) Thomas with a sixth sense, able to see demons when they arrive just before tragedy occurs. Yowza. His accomplice is his girlfriend and love interest, aptly named Stormy, who is not similarly gifted and seems to have more common sense than Odd.

I’m drawn to books that buck expectations, whether that’s through the format, content, or approach. So I adore how this book absolutely tears them all down and creates something more original instead. Chunks of this book are written like social media posts, which create quick, digestible sections that let the absurdity, humor, and social musings really hit.

I also admire how Lockwood is able to switch so smoothly between hilarity, heartbreak, anxiety, and sadness; I was cackling one minute and then ugly crying just a few pages later. I’ve never read a book quite like this before. Lockwood’s writing style inspires me to take more risks in my own stories.

This book is like a reminder of the wisdom that already lies latent within us (by “us” I’m identifying as a cis-gender woman, but that does not exclude anyone else, just helps to clarify). Rather than a gentle nudge, Dancing in the Flames’ approach to uncovering the buried dark goddess in modern culture is more of a slap in the face. A wake-up call that, I personally, have been intuiting for years. Woodman and Dickson weave together true historical accounts and cultural representations of why the dark goddess is essential for human and societal growth. Eerily similar to my highly sci-fi/fantastical book, I stumbled upon Dancing in the Flames while conducting research for my dark-fem-rising story. I hang on every word they write as it 100% rings true for me.

This book not only changed my entire life, but it has also helped me shape the ending of my own book. Wilson gave me the permission and vocabulary to express abstract concepts that I was carrying around; sacred rage, patriarchal oppression, a lineage of matricidal trauma… big stuff. Rather than a book, Maiden to Mother is a cultural and feminine ancestral movement. By traversing your own underworlds and excavating all of the buried, scorned, traumatized parts of ourselves, we can then begin the healing journey and live honest to our souls. In this non-fiction book, Wilson asks the reader to go where they’ve never gone before, and in return, promises liberation and true joy. She delivers this in a no-bullshit manner. And guess what? It works.

It was very exciting. The book is about coincidences/synchronicities and being guided by signs, visions, and feelings. I was already caught up in a spiritual path when this book appeared, and it was like a whirlwind time for me. I was led into many different studies, eventually returning to Christianity. This book was close to the beginning of a journey that began 30 years ago. 

This book, though, opened my eyes to the connection between a higher intelligence and yourself. Its magnificent guidance led me, which I still rely on today. I swear that that ability has saved me daily by following Christ. I learned that the world was very full, alive, exciting, and not mundane.

The companion reader was helpful and one very significant thing that I learned is how we choose our parents and to understand why and the qualities they have that I needed in this sojourn.… show more.

I love the simplicity of the stories with the catchy one-word titles. Short and sweet. They need not be read in any specific order. Each story stands on its own and each has a depth of meaning so that every time I read it I see something new in the story. This book was a model for me in my writing of Sages of Young Ages.

If contemplation means taking a long, loving look at the real, this book-long look at Rembrandt’s painting of the Prodigal Son offers a master class in contemplation. Every sentence, every word touched my heart, suffused as they were with Nouwen’s patient, humble efforts to understand the nature of suffering and the mystery of love.

Though I’ve never spent several days looking at a painting and living into its story, I feel as though I took that journey with him. And I also feel challenged to look at everything I encounter differently, to slow down and take time to let each tiny detail unfold into a rich world of meaning, now that I’ve been shown the potential.

After reading The Divine Conspiracy twice, I’m ready to dive in again. So many treasures are packed into these pages, waiting to be absorbed.

Anchored in the Sermon on the Mount, the author discusses our discipleship and how we related to Christ. Sometimes, we miss the life that’s in biblical text, but this book offers perspective that makes us take a second look and inspires our hearts.

I found so much freedom in this book. Richard Rohr put words to things I had long felt but struggled to articulate—that Christ’s presence is not confined to religion, rules, or a distant heaven but woven into everything, here and now.

This book expanded my view of God, shattering the small, transactional faith I had been handed and replacing it with a love big enough to hold all things. Rohr’s words helped me see Christ in the ordinary, in the broken, in myself—and that changed everything.

Because I am also English and became a minister when women were not readily accepted in this profession, this 14th-century English mystic, Julian of Norwich, felt like a friend. She was able to thrive in a male-dominated world. She taught about God-imagery that included not only the divine father but also the divine mother. She spoke and wrote about her revelations from Jesus that, unlike the fear-based religious teaching of her day, were about God’s love for all people. I cherish her well-known words: “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.”