96 Books Like Tuesdays at the Castle

This is perhaps the best-known and most obvious choice illustrating Nature’s healing powers. Mary, an orphaned girl, moves in with an estranged, reclusive uncle on his isolated English estate. Lonely and bereaved, Mary spends her days exploring both the house and extensive gardens, when one day she discovers a secret garden, locked away behind a wall.

This garden, tucked away and neglected for many years, is the key to Mary’s healing. Through quiet deliberation, she begins to bring the garden back to life and, in turn, finds new life in herself. The healing of the uncle is perhaps the most mystical scene in the book for me, brought about by a quiet moment beside a trickling stream, where he has an epiphany of heart healing. I find the book’s mixture of nature and mystery beguiling.

I was quickly captivated by the story of Princess Ani and her magical gift of animal speak. I related to her insecurity of being an outcast, feeling different, and finding refuge within the natural world. Her fast-paced story engages with both colorful and menacing characters as she confronts parental conflict, loss, betrayal, and true love.

Inspirational to read as she faced these challenging obstacles and evolved into self-acceptance, realizing that her differences and gifts were actually her greatest allies. This story explores bonds to animals and nature, parental conflict, betrayal, determination, insecurities around being different, acceptance, and listening to one’s inner voice.

I absolutely love the magical, fantastical, and treacherous world that Brand Mull created in this book. The story of Kendra and her brother Seth being shipped off to their grandparents, who they hardly know, in a very strange place they've never been and rules that don't make sense, creates that perfect recipe for discovery, mishap, and victory.

We've seen this format before, but this time it feels different. I especially love the way the siblings work together, each with special gifts that get them both in and out of trouble along the way, not to mention the way the creatures in this book are portrayed with creativity and a little darkness that's very unexpected and incredibly entertaining. 

I love this book for its keen originality, which turns tropes on their heads while telling a story that both kids and adults enjoy. It is set in a strange, whimsical, and fragmented fairyland. I simply cannot get over how wonderfully surprising Valente's tone and writing style are.

It's both fluid and fun, yet matter-of-fact in its telling of September, a brave and stubborn heroine as she navigates a mostly broken Fairyland and its cadre of colorful and unexpected creatures, such as a soap golem, centipedes, and a spoonless witch, to name a few. 

Between the high-stakes worldbuilding, Earth on the brink of war with Luna while battling a global pandemic, and Marissa Meyer’s fresh sci-fi take on magic, the story drew me in and wouldn’t let me go.

I’m not ashamed to say I devoured this in one sitting. I was fascinated by the lunar people’s ability to use their “gifts” to manipulate bioelectricity, casting glamours and bewitching their victim’s minds. It added yet another layer of tension to the story.

The seamless fusion of dystopia, sci-fi, and elements from classic fairytales creates a powerhouse narrative that centers around Cinder, a cyborg mechanic whose fate is inexplicably twined with the prince’s in a race to find a cure and prevent the impending war.

Fun fact: in college, my specialty was 16th-century Scotland, which meant I spent several months living in Edinburgh doing research for my senior thesis. In this book, Susanna Kearsley brings to life a Scotland we seldom see in novels but which brings back the Edinburgh I lived in and studied more vividly than anything else I’ve encountered.

There are so many books about the Jacobite rebellion of 1745, but this book tackles the precursor to all that, the tangled politics of the late 17th and early 18th centuries, from the fall-out of the Glorious Revolution and the exile of James II to the ferment around the 1707 Act of Union in all its glorious complexity, through the life of one woman who finds herself—as one does—a normal person buffeted by larger events. Every time I open this book, I feel like I’m back in Edinburgh again. 

Sarah Gristwood is one of our leading experts in Tudor history, and in this nonfiction study, she lays bare the complexities of love and passion at the Tudor court.

This is such a refreshing book because it explores both the similarities and the wild differences between ourselves and our ancestors. Gristwood provides a rich sense of what love, marriage, passion, and the performance of emotion meant to the Tudors.

One cannot quite look at Henry VIII or any of his wives in quite the same way after reading.

Mary Renault’s partly fictional biography of Alexander reminds us that the King had more trouble with his courtiers than with his subjects or enemies.

She tells the story of how they poisoned him. That tendency of ours—to shoot the religious messenger bringing strange news—to think that that the strange news is freakish or threatening—is one to remember.  

I love this book for its inventive way of making a potentially hum-drum area of maths (place value) into a problem-solving adventure. An ever-increasing number of party guests threatens to scupper the organization of the royal catering team until someone has the genius idea of corralling everyone into groups of tens, hundreds, and even thousands as more and more people arrive.

The combination of medieval royalty, a comedy crisis, and expressive illustrations carry the reader along, with the maths being an essential part of the problem-solving and eventually saving the day (naturally!)

I didn’t know Georgette Heyer wrote outside of Regency romances until I read The Conqueror. The period covering William the Conqueror’s life, from his accession as Duke of Normandy to his invasion and conquest of England, captivated me.

Heyer’s portrayal not only of the romances of William and Matilda of Flanders and a Norman vassal and English lady but also of the bond of friendship and loyalty between William and Raoul, the aforementioned vassal, were so plausibly written I almost believed both bond and fictional characters existed. Even better, she depicted 11th-century Normandy, England, and France in such riveting detail without sounding like an encyclopedia, often using her characters to help recreate that era. This book remains one of my favorites, and frequently re-read historical romances.