79 Books Like Three Guesses

Many years ago, a writer friend recommended Mrs. Caliban to me, without hinting about the plot or characters. “Just try it,” she said. “It’s so you.” She knew me well! I fell hard in love with this book that seemed like a wacky, comic, poetic collage of suburban reality, romance, and sci-fi thriller, with even a bit of horror thrown in.

The genius of Rachel Ingalls sneaks up on you until you’re totally verklempt over protagonist Dorothy’s fearless befriending of “Aquarius the Monsterman,” or, as she called him, “Larry.” A classic novella, and the perfect book for those moments you need to be mercifully transported from everyday life.

I find the very word “novella” delicious. Edith Wharton is one of my favorite writers, and this book is near the top of my deliciousness list. How can you resist a book with a killer first line like this: “I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story.”

The setting is so important here, too: a bitter Massachusetts winter that reflects the tale’s somber mood. Unlike the characters in Wharton’s The Age of Innocence, the characters here are not of the upper class, but in both books the characters share the internal crisis of whether to honor the moral constraints of their times or follow their aching hearts.

I’ve been a devoted Salinger fan ever since Holden Caulfield made me cry in the fifties. After that, I devoured every Salinger book I could find, thereby acquainting myself with the fascinating Glass family.

In this book, narrator Buddy Glass reads a letter written years before by his precocious brother Seymour at age seven. You get the picture: Salinger is at it again, wryly wrangling quirky commentary on everything from family relationships to discourses on God. And it’s funny too, of course.

This book was first published by The New Yorker in 1965, taking up almost the entire issue (yes, I have one!), and it’s a little hard to find, but give it a Google. It’s the last piece Salinger published during his lifetime.

I get really happy when I can say this about a book: “I’ve never read anything like it!” This book isn’t fiction—or at least the author insists it isn’t, but it’s one of the most compelling books I’ve read, possibly because I’m the kind of animal lover who, in one way or another, puts animals in all her stories.

J. Allen Boone spins mesmerizing tales about animal intelligence and animal communication, filling his pages with philosophy and observations about animal lives from his friend, the German Shepherd movie star Strongheart, to a common house fly named Freddie. It’s not a children’s book—it’s a human’s book!

Growing up in Memphis, I heard a lot about Elvis Presley. From there, it was just a side step to Sun Studio and Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, and Jerry Lee Lewis. But there was this place across town — Stax. It was in a place called Soulsville, and it was magical. An old movie theater where Blacks and whites came together in the 1960s and ‘70s to make some of the best music anywhere — soul music. Not the polished sounds of Motown, but gritty, stirring music from the gut. In my writing a fictional world of music, the very real world of Otis Redding, Carla Thomas, Booker T. & the MG’s, and so many others provided inspiration against a backdrop of exultation, innovation, beauty, and tragedy. 

This story had so much unique and charismatic personality! The characters leapt off the pages, and their “dilemma” created an irresistible hook.

Davis is about to graduate from college and has yet to lose her virginity. She turns to the one man she’s wanted for the job, her childhood crush, lifelong family friend, best friend to her brother, and bad boy extreme, Crew Taylor. These two have an intense history together that involved Davis’s older brother Memphis, and this relationship and how Memphis fell into addiction, dragging Crew down with him, was beautifully crafted by the author and the highlight of the story for me.

The angsty buildup between these two people who clearly were destined for each other was incredibly satisfying! I was on the edge of my seat, rooting so hard for Crew to overcome the demons of his past and just let Davis into his heart. I… show more.

I read two great memoirs for a panel I moderated about daughters and fathers. At the event, I enjoyed watching Leslie Absher and Leta McCollough Seletzky meet and realize how much they had in common.

Both authors had dads who kept secrets— big, political secrets. Leta Seletzky’s dad worked as an undercover officer for the Memphis Police Department in the 1960s: he was “The Kneeling Man” in the famous photograph taken after King’s death. 

This may sound odd, but I related to Leta Seletzky’s emotional tale of how she gradually got to know her father, as an adult, by uncovering the many layers of his life story. 

For my money, Stern is the South’s premiere literary comic writer. In this one, he is a Southern Philip Roth with an I.B. Singer twist. A teenage boy discovers a frozen rabbi in the Kelvinator inside his parent’s Memphis basement. The rabbi’s been frozen for one hundred years. Bernie thaws him and what ensues covers a universe of incident: teenage hope and angst, Talmudic wisdom, kabbalistic film-flammery, the seduction of all of Memphis, from lowlifes to elite, by a rabbi (who can fly) selling himself as the font of all magic and knowledge. Stern obviously loves his Memphis and his Jews. At the same time he skewers them with the sleekest wit. Even Israel gets a gratuitous knock. It was the only thing I did not like in the book but it was fleeting, so I got over it. Such is the power of genius.

One of many of “the queen’s” paranormal/magical series, these novels—Blue Dahlia, Black Rose, and Red Lily—also date back nearly two decades. I was especially drawn by the historical mystery, featuring the mournful ghost of a woman who’s been haunting a family home for centuries. Roberts skillfully draws the intrigue through the series featuring three strong women tied together by a gardening business. In the first book, Blue Dahlia, we meet determined, successful Roz Harper, who owns the family business, and her new employees. Stella is a young widow and Hayley a single, expectant mother. As their stories weave throughout the trilogy, we’re treated to romances and the linking thread of the spooky, historical mystery. 

By looking at three local NOW chapters around the country, Gilmore shows that the leading organization of 1960s feminism wasn’t nearly as centralized as people think. Memphis NOW, for example, was a radical feminist group simply by being a feminist group in the South. San Francisco NOW, by contrast, made coalitions with many more radical groups as they worked together to make change. A great read and an important insight into how NOW actually worked as an organization.