Books like Victory City

In 1989, Salman Rushdie he had to go into hiding because of the fatwa against his life. In trying to explain this decision to his young son, Rushdie spins a magical tale of a storyteller who decides to stop telling stories.

The hero, Haroun, always wondered where his father's stories came from. His father always said “I drink from the ocean of stories. They install a spigot in the wall for me to drink from.” (Yeah, right.) Until, on that one fateful day, Haroun catches the water genie uninstalling the spigot.

On his way to save the ocean of stories, Haroun finds wonderful friends and the power of teamwork. The moral contrast between the Guppees (who argue all the time, but in the end work together) and the Chupwalas (who never disagree because they live in fear, but are so unable to work together, they fight with their own shadows)… show more.

In my opinion, one of the finest living writers in the English language, Winterson masterfully spins a tale of historical, poetic, eccentric, dreamy and highly sensual, and gender-bending eroticism involving an androgynous hero during the Napoleonic era, and taking place in the kitchens of the emperor, on the battlefield and along the freezing march into Russia, as well as amid the canals of Venice. Always thought-provoking and rife with magical realism and plain heart-stopping imagery, tension, and poetry, Winterson tells her story in a manner that will—if not change your ideas about everything—certainly challenge them. I always feel inspired to stretch my understanding wider—and I actually fall deeply in love with the world all over again—each time I finish a novel by Winterson.

I love reading novels and stories that make me wish I’d written them, and this collection by Kelly Link made me wish that time and time again. This book also introduced me to the concept of fabulism, a form of magical realism where elements of the fantastic occur in everyday settings, which is something I find compelling both as a reader and as a writer. Link combines humor, fantasy, magical realism, and more than a touch of horror to create a collection of stories that is unique, weird, and wonderful. 

Thomas Ligotti writes dark magical realism short stories. The Shadow at the Bottom of the World is an unforgettable collection written by a modern master of atmosphere. His stories rarely have complicated plots, but the feeling they leave you with is the whole point. In the thousands of books I’ve read, I can safely say he writes like no other-- he enshrouds your spirit with dread. The title story showcases a small town that encounters the arrival of a threatening breed of darkness. Written with the stunning imagery of Bradbury, the mysticism of Lovecraft, and the disquieting tone of William S. Burroughs, this collection will have you brightening the blaze in the fireplace, just to make the shadows retreat.

Paranormal Women’s Fiction: This is a relatively new genre that “celebrates either a midlife or older woman who navigates her life while discovering or developing her own magical powers. Being an older woman, I leapt on this one! Magic realism is present here as is often the case with the paranormal. Interweaving individual paranormal abilities within the town of Myrtlewood, which is itself a city of quirks, with a mystery and a murder demanding to be solved. 

The personalities of the two main characters seem to ruffle the feathers of some readers. However, I viewed the interactions of the mother and daughter as evolutionary journeys, individually and in their relationships with each other. Did it present frustrating moments? Of course, but this is what makes it good.

Kelsey stifles her creative side, for she’s struggling to pay the bills and has to be practical. But in the hidden garden next door, she finds the answers to who she really is, and learns to embrace her creative side and value her gifts. I want to give a copy of this book to every creative person I know, to everyone who has been touched by the imposter syndrome (it’s a real thing with all artistic endeavors!) In this exquisite book, Higley shored up my inspiration as she gently shows us that all of our gifts are welcome.

Tyger grabbed me with its opening lines: "It happened in the 21st century, when London was still the capital of an Empire, and the Empire still ruled the world…"

Adam, our young hero is running from a thief when he comes across a magical creature, a wounded Tyger. Powerful enemies are hunting the Tyger, to save her, Adam and his friend Zadie must develop the power to open their own ‘doors of perception’ and overcome the forces of evil.

Tyger is a vivid, beautifully written adventure that feels timeless, with philosophical echoes of William Blake and stunning illustrations by Dave McKean.

It’s science fiction writers like Carol Emshwiller that must be mentioned here, especially when she writes about Ruthie and Joe, who own a robot whom they call the “grey-green” thing, the hound, the Rover, or sometimes just “bitch”. In order to increase their chances for a successful hunt, Joe programs the robot to track a bear, and it does so with ease. Eventually Joe commands the “grey-green thing” to actually kill it, and the robot carries out its deadly mission. At the end you shudder at the thought of the careless use of the machine, not to mention what would happen if the “grey-green thing” had been programmed to kill a human being.

The watercolor illustrations in this book are absolutely gorgeous, and the story itself mixes magical realism with an insightful truth. In providing us with opportunities, our parents have to sacrifice a little bit of themselves. Throughout the book, this abstract sacrifice is portrayed by the parent’s shrinking scale. The parents offer a few inches of their height in exchange to give their child a birthday cake, education, and books. Throughout time, the reader sees the parents shrink smaller and smaller as they give more and more of themselves to the young boy. This is a book that made us want to tear up, and a book that we wish we could have written.

I met Kevin Sacco when he was an advertising storyboard artist. Kevin knew how to sell the story of an ad simply and dramatically in a series of graphic panels with an economy of words. In Sevenoaks, I see the same brain at work. His book is based on his life: a ‘60s-era New York City high school kid sent to an elite private school outside London. Sacco’s distinctive elongated and restrained figures, beautifully drawn geometric and airy cityscapes, and genial pace can lull one into a sense of calm, so that his moments of high and even magical drama slice more deeply into the emotions. One might be surprised to discover an unexpected tear.