Books like There Are No Rules for This — picked by fans

Friendly tip: I do not recommend reading this novel while isolated from your family due to travel and illness, because this book hits hard in all the right ways.

It invites both the protagonist and the reader to explore the deepest wells of regret and the branching infinities that our life choices produce. In doing so, the novel beautifully confronts the seductive lure of “what could have been” while reminding us of the quiet beauty in what is.

As someone whose mind is often lost in the past or gazing into the future, this ultimate lesson of the book provided a much-needed sense of clarity.

I love an intriguing premise and an unexpected twist. This book promised both, and it really delivered!

I think we are all curious about what goes on behind the closed doors of our neighbors, though the truth is usually incredibly mundane…especially when compared to this story! From the first page to the last, I couldn’t put down this psychological thriller.

Because I love a tale of great suspense, I find myself growing impatient whenever a story starts to peter out without any satisfying resolution. That was not the case with this book. It delivered great, well-developed characters and an unexpected ending. Bravo!

Ever since my mother passed away on her favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, I’ve been obsessed with how much control we might actually have in life and beyond. So, Golden Girl’s story of Vivian getting to watch her children and even make some changes after her passing was right up my alley!

I found myself identifying with her as she watched, worried, and decided when and how to alter the course of events. And who doesn’t have a few secrets they want to keep hidden? I saw what happened to my family after losing my mother and wondered what mom would say or do differently if she could have seen us and manipulated events from beyond!

Everybody's probably read this one, but I'll mention it anyway.This book could be titled Everyone is Lying All the Time. It's one of my favourites by McFadden.

Newlyweds Tricia and Ethan find themselves stuck in a house until the snowstorm passes. Everything about the house—the noises, things moving or appearing, secret doors—makes Tricia nervous, but Ethan has an explanation for everything.

The characters of Dr. Hale and her nemesis, EJ, are particularly compelling, and it’s saying something considering they are mostly "written" through the audiotapes that Tricia listens to, so there’s no description of their actions. Just pure dialog on the page, as if you were listening along to the tape.

It’s only at the end that you realise this novel is a series of magic tricks designed to make you look over here while the action was really happening over there.

I recommend this amazing book because it will truly help bring you out of hiding. When we are always trying to be in self-protection mode, from what we experienced in childhood, we’re going to a place of hiding.

Through her honesty and revelations, this book will free you from wherever you’re hiding and what you need freedom from.

Gayle Brandeis’s intimate memoir of wrestling with her mother’s suicide following a long mental illness kept me company in the ways it mirrored my own experience. It is sometimes easier to mourn a stranger’s pain, as you edge towards your own grief. Brandeis’s reading through her mother’s letters, with their paranoid delusions and grandiose aspirations, “passionate and creatively punctuated,” rang true to my father’s crazy literary outpourings. Her experiences of entering her mother’s home to witness the evidence of her last activities, to the almost physical trauma of learning the stark details of her mother’s suicide method, comforted me in their familiarity. The suicide of a mentally ill parent leaves a lot of guilt and confusion in its wake. Anger and resentment aren’t what one “should” feel after a death of a parent, but Brandeis doesn’t sugarcoat the complex mess of emotions that needs to be untangled. 

You Don’t Have to Die in the End is just the sort of book I’d hand to a student who struggled with finding anything relatable. Eugenia Grimm could be down to her last chance when she is sent to Reason’s Wait, a facility for troubled teens. Because of her troubled past, she has programmed herself to lock horns with any adult who tries to cross—or help—her. I cringed during her tempestuous exchanges with social workers, staff, and fellow “inmates”—hoping one of them would find a way to save this bitter, angry girl from herself. Spoiler alert: As Daher’s title suggests, Eugenia’s train wreck of a life is salvaged in the end.

This book is about a heroin addict. However, you don’t need to be a heroin addict to sympathize with its protagonist’s existential weariness—or ennui, as the French call it. I know I do. After exiting a rehabilitation clinic, he wanders around listlessly, visiting friends and acquaintances, trying to find a reason to go on, yet finding none.

The story may be better known for the excellent film adaptation by Louis Malle—which switches heroin for alcohol—yet the terse and evocative writing of the original novel nevertheless packs a punch. The fact that the protagonist was closely inspired by the author’s friend lends an element of authenticity to it, making his suffering all the more relevant.

Impossible to fathom how Carson McCullers could have distilled such wisdom into her soul by age twenty-three, and then produced this book. The passions and losses, violence and ambition, guilts and loves, of her cast of small-town 1930s Americana characters, wander across the pages like spectres disrupted by a shifting wind. 

The lost, struggling to hear each other's songs above their own pain, but continuing to try through the long night, no matter the chance of success. 

I first bought a copy of this in Sandusky, Ohio, in 1993, on a day off from working at Cedar Point Amusement Park, entranced as I read the first pages standing up in a mall bookshop, the after-echoes of rumbling roller-coasters pummelling my ears and spirit.

This book is also full of sad facts. But understanding suicide is important. Many people with bipolar disorder struggle with suicidal thoughts, and researchers estimate that 20-60% of people with bipolar disorder attempt suicide. Kay Redfield Jamison’s book is full of compelling patient profiles, thought-provoking statistics, and beautiful poetry. This is book is gripping, compassionate, and ultimately life-affirming.