Are There Books Like Meridon?

If you loved the wild, gothic sci-fi vibes of 'Gideon the Ninth'—lesbian necromancers in space, dark humor, and a murder mystery wrapped in bones—then you're in for a treat. Tamsyn Muir’s blend of genres is unique, but 'The Locked Tomb' series isn’t alone in its eccentric brilliance. Try 'The Unspoken Name' by A.K. Larkwood for another queer, morally gray protagonist diving into godly chaos with a side of snark. Or 'Empress of Forever' by Max Gladstone, which throws a tech genius into cosmic battles with a found-family twist. Both have that same mix of irreverence and high stakes. For darker, bone-heavy aesthetics, 'The Bone Shard Daughter' by Andrea Stewart crafts a world where magic is literally carved from skeletons, and 'The Book of the Ancestor' trilogy by Mark Lawrence offers nuns with knives and icy apocalypses. If you just want more necromancers being disasters, 'Harrow the Ninth' (obviously) and 'Nona the Ninth' dig deeper into Muir’s labyrinthine plot. Honestly, half the fun is finding books that steal your heart like Gideon did—sword-first and grinning.

I adored 'Menewood' for its lush historical detail and fierce female protagonist—it reminded me of how much I crave stories that blend mythology, survival, and raw emotional stakes. If you're after something with a similar vibe, try 'The Wolf in the Whale' by Jordanna Max Brodsky. It's another gritty historical fantasy where a young Inuit shaman clashes with Norse invaders, and the spiritual elements are just as immersive. The protagonist's journey feels equally visceral, with that same blend of personal grit and cultural depth. Another pick would be 'The Buried Giant' by Kazuo Ishiguro—quieter but haunting, with its fog-drenched Arthurian setting and themes of memory and loss. It lacks 'Menewood''s action, but the atmospheric weight lingers. For a wildcard, 'Spear' by Nicola Griffith (same author as 'Hild,' which 'Menewood' expands) is a gorgeous, queer reimagining of Arthurian legend with lyrical prose. Griffith’s ability to make history feel alive is unmatched.

I fell headfirst into 'Magonia' a few years ago, and its blend of sky pirates, mysterious avian-human hybrids, and that aching, lyrical prose left me craving more stories with that same sense of wonder. If you loved the ethereal strangeness of Aza’s world, you might adore 'The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making'—it’s got that same whimsical yet melancholic vibe, like a lullaby sung by a storm. Or try 'A Thousand Pieces of You' for interdimensional travel with a dash of romance—less feathers, more quantum physics, but the emotional stakes feel just as high. For something darker but equally immersive, 'The Lie Tree' by Frances Hardinge wraps mystery and myth in gorgeous, eerie prose. And if it’s the found family aspect of 'Magonia' that hooked you, 'The Raven Boys' has that simmering camaraderie and a touch of magic lurking beneath everyday life. Honestly, half the fun is chasing that same bookish high—I still keep a list of titles that give me that 'Magonia' flutter in my chest.

If you loved the introspective, character-driven depth of 'Meredith Alone', you might find 'Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine' by Gail Honeyman equally moving. Both books explore themes of isolation and self-discovery, but where Meredith’s journey feels quietly desperate, Eleanor’s is laced with dark humor and unexpected warmth. The way both authors peel back layers of their protagonists’ lives makes you ache for them in different ways. Another gem is 'A Man Called Ove' by Fredrik Backman. It’s got that same blend of grumpy exterior hiding a tender heart, though Ove’s story leans more into community ties. For something slightly offbeat, 'Convenience Store Woman' by Sayaka Murata nails the 'outsider looking in' vibe but with a surreal, almost detached tone that’s fascinatingly different. All three books share that knack for making ordinary lives feel extraordinary.

If you loved 'Meridian' for its blend of introspective prose and subtle magical realism, you might dive into 'The Night Circus' by Erin Morgenstern. Both books weave enchantment into everyday life, but where 'Meridian' feels like a quiet dream, 'Night Circus' bursts with kaleidoscopic vibrancy—tents appear overnight, performers defy gravity, and love stories unfold like intricate clockwork. For something grittier, try 'The Bone Clocks' by David Mitchell. It shares 'Meridian’s' thematic depth—questions of time, mortality, and hidden worlds—but layers in globe-trotting urgency. Mitchell’s fragmented narrative might disorient at first, but the payoff is worth it. I stumbled upon both books during a rainy weekend marathon, and they left me staring at ceilings, pondering invisible threads between lives.