2024 was the year where I fully embraced my novella-era, learning to appreciate the art and power of shorter books instead of only the chunkers. This inspired the theme for todays Books in Pairs; “if you liked this novel, you might love this novella”. With exactly two weeks left in the year, what better time to squeeze in a couple more short reads to fulfill your reading challenge. Of course, all of these recommendations work both ways, so if you loved any of these novellas and want more of something similar, then you might want to give these books a try. All books are linked to their respective Goodreads-page for your convenience.
1. If you liked: The Six of Dusk by Brandon Sanderson (66 pages)
You might like: The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson (1007 pages)
Let’s get the most obvious pairing out of the way first, as they’re both penned by the same author and set in the same universe. Although I’m a longtime fan of Sanderson’s work, I’ve only started his Stormlight Archive series this year, and have to say it’s one of his best works I’ve read. If you would like an introduction to the Cosmere Universe, but are daunted by behemoths like The Way of Kings or Elantris; give The Six of Dusk a try. With only 66 pages, it’s a great way to get a feeling for the epic magic systems and worldbuilding-skills that Sanderson is famous for.
If that spiked your interest: lucky you, because there’s about 30 books more in that universe…
2. If you liked: Orbital by Samantha Harvey (200 pages)
You might like: In Ascension by Martin MacInnis (496 pages)
Orbital follows the musings of 6 scientists in orbit on a mission to collect weather-data. Despite their physical distance to Earth, we see their connections to the people and events on the ground in their everyday actions and thoughts.
In Ascension follows a young microbiologists who’s career leads her from the depths of the Mariana trench to the heights of outer space. The two of which have more in common than she could’ve ever expected.
Both these literary science fiction novels combine similar large themes of stellar exploration, climate-change and environmentalism, with intimate and personal character portraits of protagonists embarking on an orbital mission into space. They also both have a similar stylistic motif, where the story-structure mirrors their physical journey into atmosphere. In the case of Orbital; a circular one, and in the case of Ascension: an ascending and descending arc. Stunningly written and crafted; both (deservedly) made it high onto multiple award-lists for their respective release years.
3. If you liked: Grief is the Thing with Feathers by Max Porter (114 pages)
You might like: Maps of Our Spectacular Bodies by Maddie Mortimer (448 pages)
In Grief is the Thing with Feathers a father and his young sons are haunted by Crow, a pesky and tormenting spirit in the shape of a bird, representing the families grief over the loss of their mother to cancer.
In Maps of Our Spectacular Bodies, we also follow a family living in the shadow of cancer; this time a shadow that is very much still looming overhead. Told from the perspective of the family members, as well as the voice of our protagonists cancer itself, this is one of the most impactful accounts of the disease I’ve ever read.
Both these books are somewhere in between literary prose and poetry, center around themes of grief and cancer, and were deeply emotionally impactful to me upon multiple rereads. They also both use the device of giving voice to not just the protagonists, but also the abstract “villain” too. Although the idea of these “concepts given voice” might seem intimidating or too weird for some, I highly recommend both these books on a personal level. Coming from someone who usually doesn’t enjoy “stylistic gimmicks”; both Mortimer and Porter are masters of their craft and handle these extremely difficult topics ánd styles with incredible grace.
4. If you liked: The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Stenton (64 pages)
You might like: The Upstairs House by Julia Fine (304 pages)
The Yellow Wallpaper follows a woman in the mid-nineteens century, after she’s been diagnosed with a form of depressive hysteria following the birth of her child, and confined to an isolated room as part of her treatment. She soon finds herself haunted by the inclosing walls of her domestic prison, with their horrid yellow wallpapers and all.
In The Upstairs House, a young mother is equally haunted and struggling with her mental health in the wake of the birth of her child. Rather than being locked away in her attic herself however, Megan finds the judgmental spirit of a historical children’s book author up there.
Both these novels beautifully explore post-partum mental health and the dismissal of women’s mental struggles in history. Although set in very different time-periods, both also touch upon the expectations and fears that come with young motherhood and domestic life. Both were quick and impactful reads that stuck with me throughout the years.
5. If you liked: The Call of Cthulhu by H.P. Lovecraft (43 pages)
You might like: The Fisherman by John Langan (266 pages)
In The Fisherman two widowers embark on a river-fishing trip together and confront both their individual grief, as well as Eldridge horrors of the waters. Those horrors find their inspiration in the original pantheon of the Cthulhu mythos penned by HP Lovecraft, the most famous story of which being the Call of Cthulhu.
John Langan novel The Fisherman is as close as one can get to Lovecraftian horror, both in themes/motifs and style, without the racism indicative of H.P.’s time. If you liked the idea of Eldridge Godlike horrors beyond comprehension lurking beneath the ocean’s surface, you’ll find plenty of that in The Fisherman too. Add to that a surprisingly emotional (and equally cosmic) tale of grief and the friendship between two man which forms as a result and you have a wonderful modern-Lovecraftian creation.
6. If you liked: The Willow by Algernon Blackwood (64 pages)
You might like: The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher (341 pages)
In The Willows, a canoe trip along a gloomy river becomes increasingly disturbing and dreadfilled as our protagonists start to suspect that the environment itself is watching them…
In The Hollow Places, a woman discovers a doorway to a strange “in-between” place of willows and fog in her uncles house.
The Hollow Places takes clear inspiration from the atmosphere and the environmental tropes that were used in The Willows, but in typical Kingfisher-style, makes the story completely her own. Although the plots are very different, the vibes are eerily similar.
7. If you liked: Graveyard Shift by M.L. Rio (144 pages) or What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher (160 pages)
You might like: Mexican Gothic by Sylvia Moreno Garcia (320 pages)
In Graveyard Shift, a group of night-smokers meet by chance every night in an unused cemetery behind a college-campus, which has become their designated smoking-area. One day, they find an open grave there… In Mexican Gothic, a glamorous socialite of 1950s Mexico is summoned to a country-side gothic mansion by a plea for help from her newlywed cousin to save her from her new husband, who harboured dark secrets.
Finally, What Moves the Dead is a creative retelling of the classic Fall of the House of Usher, featuring a non-binary protagonists as he’s invited by Roderick Usher to help him out with his sisters inexplicable illness.
Although on first sight, these three synopses have little in common, their covers give away a shared trope. If you are on the look out for fungal horror, aka “sporror”; these titles might tickle your fancy.
8. If you liked: The Night Guest by Hildur Knutsdottir (190 pages)
You might like: Sleeping Beauties by Stephen King and Owen King (702 pages)
In The Night Guest, a woman searches for answers to the strange affliction that plagues her, leaving her exhausted every morning with a Fitbit showing that she’s walked thousands of steps every night. Is this sleepwalking, or something more insidious?
In Sleeping Beauties, a strange sleeping-pandemic affects only women, turning them into gauze wrapped bodies that cannot be roused or disturbed, at the risk of violent outburst. In their absence, the world without women takes on very different shapes.
The obvious connection between these books is in their “sleeping-horror”-trope. Although both have wildly different focusses, scopes and stories, both touch on feminist themes and somewhat on the dismissal of women’s health problems. On a very subjective level: both these gave me similar vibes in the sense that both were enjoyable romps, but were executed a little too messily to be 5-star-reads for me.
9. If you liked: In the Valley of Headless Men by L.P. Hernandez (140 pages)
You might like: Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer (208 pages)
In In the Valley of Headless Men, two estranged brothers brave the wilds of Nahanni National park in a bonding-trip after the death of their mother.
In Annihilation, we follow an expedition of women-scientist into a stretch of pristine, Edenic landscape, cut off from the rest of the world as a mysterious event changed the nature of the place for good. Inside, the scientists uncover a mix of terrors and beauty beyond comprehension.
Based on their synopses, these might not seem too similar, but during my read it was clear to me that Hernandez took some inspiration from Vandermeer in the creation of the horrors and atmosphere of his isolated wilderness. It’s hard to say more without spoiling things, but safe to say that both these areas of wild-nature distort and warp reality into barely recognizable shapes for our protagonists to brave.
10. If you liked: The Fell by Sarah Moss (181 pages)
You might like: Summer by Ali Smith (384 pages)
In The Fell, a woman sneaks out of the house for a walk on the fells to break the isolation of her 2-week COVID-quarantine. Feeling guilty for not staying indoors and obeying the rules, she doesn’t tell anyone about her walk. Which becomes a problem when she falls and is unable to get up again.
Summer is the finally of Ali Smith’s Seasonal Quartet (which can be read both in order as well as individually as standalones). Here she weaves together two tales of two different brothers and sisters during tumultuous periods in British history: WWII and the 2020 pandemic.
Both Sarah Moss and Ali Smith are masters at capturing a picture of England Zeitgeist during a certain time-period, in this case the 2020-pandemic. Where The Fell focusses more on the isolation aspects, the Seasonal Quartet has a strong theme of connection. Because of that, I’d recommend these books not only as alternatives to another, but rather as companions.
11. If you liked: Green Fuse Burning by Tiffany Morisson (107 pages)
You might like: Death Valley by Melissa Broder (242 pages)
In Green Fuse Burning an artist suffering from painters-block after the passing of her father is gifted a solo cabin-retreat in the woods to spark her creativity again. Isolated in the swampy woods, she is forced into a hallucinatory confrontation with her grief.
In Death Valley a woman similarly grieving the loss of her father, takes a solo walk in the Californian desert, where she’s forced into a similarly disorienting self-reflective journey.
Coincidentally, these books were published within a week from each other, although one was a major publishers title and the other a self-published novella. They overlap in both their themes of grief over the loss of a parent and the anxieties of the “quarter-life-crisis”, as well as the hallucinatory and slightly motifs through which they chose to tell their stories. This style of books (think Mona Awad, Melissa Broder or Ottessa Moshfeg) are hit or miss for me, but both these books were homeruns that you’ll be seeing on my favourites-of-the-year-list later this month.
12. If you liked: Untethered Skies by Fonda Lee (150 pages)
You might like: Race the Sands by Sarah Beth Durst (582 pages)
In Untethered Sky a young woman joins a royal guard of Roc-riders in order to hunt down manticores to avenge her family’s death to a pack of them. In Race the Sands two women risk their lives battling injustice, corruption, and deadly enemies in their quest to become monster-racing champions.
These final two fantasy books, each by prolific fantasy authors, share themes of avenging family, ambition, a competition-element and obviously: beasthunting- and riding. If you like the trope of mythological beasts in your fantasy novels, you might enjoy either of these. Trigger warning for animal-death in both though…
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