Books like Where the Past Begins — picked by fans

I found the book reminded me so much of my own ‘tiger mother’ during my childhood and growing up years, where ‘good’ was never enough. It had to be ’best’. Her writing was plain and uncomplicated, whilst the relationships she had with her musician daughters were quite the contrary, and I found this juxtaposition rather extraordinary. 

I found the book satisfying to read, and the incidents in it were uncannily similar to my own experiences with my mother.

This brilliantly written memoir is set in Hong Kong in the 1950s and 60s. It was written by an author who had quirky experiences as an expat child in British colonial Hong Kong. It evoked my own experiences growing up in colonial Singapore and triggered a nostalgic roller coaster ride of emotions, humor, and intrigue.

Booth also grew up in a colonial British territory–Hong Kong. He relates all his adventures and experiences as a young child, accessing all aspects of colonial Hong Kong, which were unavailable to other expat children his age. His descriptions made me feel like I was with him, learning local games and partaking in local activities in a colonial-administered country.

That narrative emulates mine in my book, which focuses on my experiences as a child in British colonial Singapore—the same quirky experiences of the 1950s and 1960s.

Gurmit Singh is a funny man. His sense of humor and his love of life have turned him into a well-known celebrity in Singapore, as he plays the most notorious character, “Phua Chu Kang” in the TV Hit Comedy series of the same name.

A book written in the same style as the author’s voice, with all the same characteristics as the role he plays in the Comedy Series Phua Chu Kang. I found his writing witty, funny, and laugh-out-loud humorous, which at the same time, is peppered with a spritz of melancholy and a deep-seated emotional yank every now and then. 

Singh outlines how the events of his upbringing and the impact of his mother’s influence on him sculpted him into the person he is today. 

It helped me identify my childhood trauma of having a histrionic mother and being cast aside in favor of an older sibling.

This is very simply written in plain English and is fraught with the sadness and misery of a young girl who was ostracised by her family and siblings for a very old-fashioned traditional reason. I was taken in by the way the author captures her sorrow and disappointment, yet elucidates her resilience and strengths in overcoming the obstacles she faced throughout her growing-up years. 

I found her narratives are compelling, and as a reader, I wanted to know “what happens next…” or “how does she get out of that one?”

This time the detective whose shoes I am allowed to tread in are those of Cliff Janeway, a Denver Homicide detective, investigating the murder of a local rare books scout.

I grew to know what it feels like to be a detective. To someone like myself - who prefers to pick up my rare first editions, not on the internet but by rummaging around for hours in bookstores - this and the other titles in John Donning's atmospheric Janeway titles are pure mana from heaven.

The author ran the Old Algonquin Bookstore in Denver for a decade. Mr. Donning's writing voice is so authentic, I have to keep reminding myself that Janeway is the detective and not the author.

I don’t mind a little bit of spice in romance books, but I also enjoy the sweeter romances that RaeAnne Thayne writes.

I agree that they have a real Hallmark flavour to them, and while I don’t write that style, I loved the Haven Point series. I find this author’s focus on families very satisfying; I love the relatability of her characters and the deep dive into the emotional connections between them.

I also like the way she handles more sensitive topics such as grief and depression. I think it’s really important to include such very important topics in romance novels, as I think the way the characters handle the situations they face can be an inspiration sometimes for readers who are going through similar dilemmas.

I loved Lioness because it took such incredible inner strength for the daughters of Zelophehad to stand before Moses, as judge, and argue their case for equal rights for women regarding inheritance laws.

The characters and time period became so real to me that I read through this novel series, following the daughters to Canaan. The author spun a fiction tale around the biblical account and filled it with deep historical background, plus touched on the emotional core of Mahlah and her sisters.

I love Britton’s writing, too; it reminds me of Joyce Landorf’s fiction style.   

Protagonist Vera Kelly’s personality is the kind I grew up with in my blue-collar neighborhood. Sample line: “In fact I could tell she wanted to like me, which was probably why my first instinct was to lie to her.” Right on: If you didn’t have a cynical edge, you’d be somebody’s toast sooner or later.

Vera, a tech-savvy spy in the midst of the South American political upheaval of the 1960s, makes no big announcement about being queer, and she doesn’t consider herself some frail victim either. Cheers to that! I can relate.

Although I consider most contemporary novels to be tricked up and dumbed down, this one’s an exception. The writing’s unapologetically smart. I dig it. I’m in Mensa; what can I say?

This one hit close to the bone because it captures the specific rage of being discarded by the people who were supposed to keep you safe.

I was drawn to the way these girls, hidden away in a place meant to break them, found a way to turn their collective shame into a weapon. It reminded me that there is a sacred power in the "wayward" and the "unwanted" because they are the ones who aren't afraid to look into the dark.

It is a beautiful, terrifying testament to the fact that you can only push someone into the shadows for so long before they learn how to make the shadows move for them.

I love the way this book explains how our individual development contributes to the greater whole, the expansion of the collective consciousness, which is the only way the world can improve.

It’s a big topic, but I do love the way Tolle argues that our egos are the problem (in the form of our delusions and irrationality) as well as the solution (our ability to mature beyond just thinking of ourselves) to humanity. I admire how Tolle asks us to consider our complaining, criticisms, and judgments in terms of our fragile and needy ego, and how we need to take better responsibility for how we impact others.

There is a whole section on living as a performance as opposed to being authentic and true to yourself, which got me questioning myself in a constructive way.