If you laughed when Granny Weatherwax, Nanny Ogg, and Magrat kept puncturing storybook logic—from the wolf-in-the-woods detour to the pumpkin-coach fiasco—you’ll love how The Princess Bride skewers every fairy‑tale beat with panache. Like the way Genua’s “happily ever after” is forcibly scripted by Lilith, Goldman’s tale keeps calling out the artifice while still delivering adventure: Westley’s duels, Vizzini’s battle of wits, and Miracle Max’s deadpan rescues. It’s the same fizzy blend of satire and sincerity that made the Genua ball both hilarious and thrilling.

If the witches’ chaotic journey to Genua—dodging dwarfish bandits, outfoxing a predatory wolf, and upending a fairy‑godmother plot—had you grinning, Good Omens delivers that same buoyant, joke‑dense energy. You’ll get Crowley and Aziraphale’s bickering camaraderie (a spiritual cousin to Granny and Nanny’s prickly affection), prophetic shenanigans worthy of Agnes Nutter, and escalating farce as fate and free will collide. It’s the kind of book where the apocalypse is treated with the same irreverent wit as a pumpkin turning into a coach.

If you loved watching Granny’s iron will clash with Magrat’s earnestness (with Nanny sneaking in bawdy wisdom) as they defied Lilith’s storybook tyranny, The Once and Future Witches gives you another fierce sisterhood. The Eastwood sisters wrestle with power, morality, and solidarity much like the Genua showdown—only this time in a spell‑starved America where nursery‑rhyme magic becomes revolution. You get the bite of women rebuilding witchcraft from scraps, the tenderness of found bonds, and the satisfaction of seeing tyrants of “proper stories” brought low.

If the witches’ mission—cross half the Disc to stop a manufactured “happily ever after” in Genua—hooked you, Stardust offers a similarly crisp quest with playful turns. Tristran ventures into Faerie to fetch a fallen star, only to find she’s a stubborn woman with her own will—much like how Ella won’t be the passive princess Lilith demands. Expect sky‑pirates, murderous princes, uncanny markets, and destiny getting cheerfully elbowed aside, the way Granny elbows stories off their rails at the Genua ball.

If Lilith’s mirror‑magic in Genua fascinated you—the way she forces people to live inside tidy narratives—The Neverending Story dives headfirst into that power. As Bastian reads and then enters Fantastica, he learns that wishes rewrite the world and himself, much like how Discworld’s stories try to overwrite Ella’s life until Granny breaks the script. You’ll appreciate the wonder and the warning: tales can enchant, but they can also consume, unless someone—like a certain witch at a masked ball—chooses messy, human freedom over perfect stories.