books for fans of Sally Rooney

The only thing better than finding a new favorite book is a new favorite author.

Then there’s more where that came from! You can dive into their backlist, track their new releases, google their names to find interesting essays they’ve written for prestige outlets in the long wait between novels.

That’s the only downside — since I read mostly literary fiction, all of my go-to authors take an unbearably long time to publish new books.

In this vulnerable time, I fall for comparisons. “For readers of NAME!” “Fans of NAME will love…” “With the style and thoughtfulness of NAME…” I’ve read them all. And rarely do I agree.

The biggest culprit, of course, is Sally Rooney.

I will read, and have read, any and all books compared to hers, whether that be in marketing copy or by reviewers or just a certain je ne sais quoi.

Sometimes that goes well. Often it doesn’t. Here’s a breakdown of the ones worth your time.

To be clear: I don’t think these are really Rooney-y. They may scratch the itch. They may have characteristics. They may feel completely dissimilar and I like them for entirely separate reasons.

It’s probably that last one.

Big Publishing correctly identified this as “set in Ireland, written by a woman.” I found it to be much closer to Dolly Alderton, that zaniness and jokey style, than Rooney, but it had enough Lost Girl In Her 20s qualities for me to like it.

Mellors’ books are melodramatic, but I kind of like that for them. It makes up for their somberness, and is at the very least memorable.

The only real way that King and Rooney are similar is that I love both of their novels so much that they consume me. Which is not nothing!

In every Rooney novel, there’s a section in which the protagonist has completely fucked it and no one is speaking to them and they’re depressed and clinically introspective in a way that is completely novel and almost soothing. This book is closest to that.