100 books like Ender's Game

I absolutely love this book because it explores one of my deepest philosophical questions: What blindspots in our subjective humanity allow for such violence and depravity when the power to engage in such things is granted to us?

As a veteran and long-time student of war, I am fascinated by the ever-fluctuating value of human life when it comes to power, wealth, and empire. 

Here is yet another book where at first it seems as though there are no heroes.

Abercrombie writes a masterful world filled with magic, politics, swordfights, and bleak attitudes. One of the main POV characters is a torturer—I mean a full-on break your toes and laugh about it torturer—but even still, I found myself wanting more of his story. He’s certainly not a hero, but he was at one point, and that’s even more intriguing.

The characters drive this fantasy series, but the world is also a gorgeous setting that Abercrombie clearly spent many long nights thinking through. Every detail feels like it matters, and throughout this trilogy, the smallest specks of plot come back to matter.

On top of it all, I loved the audiobook narrator and his particular performances for each character brought the world to life.

I only recently read this book based on a friend’s recommendation (and because I wanted to read it before watching the movie). I was blown away by the depth and breadth of the world-building in Dune.

Though my general agreement with Herbert’s social philosophy might impact this pick, there’s no denying his prodigious world-building skills. 

This book is set in motion in the cultural revolution in China—a background that profoundly shapes the main characters’ choices and destinies.

A young scientist who has witnessed her father’s persecution ends up at a science center looking for radio-wave evidence of extra-terrestrial life. Not only does she find it, but she figures out how to communicate with it.

Couple the scientist’s views of humanity with those of a disillusioned heir to an oil fortune, and the stage is set for an epic novel with a unique take on first contact. This book—the first of a trilogy—provides frightening insights into how history can shape humanity’s future.   

Having read this book when I was 22, it helped shape my fear of the danger of complacent societies. Simply but powerfully written, its first-person narrative creates a sense of claustrophobia, a glimpse into the isolating and dehumanizing life of a handmaid. 

Through Offred, the traumas she experiences, and the people she interacts with the whole world of Gilead springs to scary life. While reading the book, it struck me that nothing was totally made up. Every incident in the book was derived from history. These things had already happened, and they could happen again. It showed me that victory is not always heroic and impressive. Sometimes, victory can be just surviving oppression.

If you want a break from fantasy and sci-fi, and you love a book with morally grey characters, then this is it.

Beartown is a town that survives on hockey. The kids play it, the grown-ups work in anything related, and just like in sports, both sides consider themselves the good side in every action they take.

We follow the manager of the hockey club as he must make impossible decisions, then the players, each making their own mistakes. We see villains grow from a place that we can understand, and we see good people making bad calls because no one can be perfect all the time.

And most importantly, we see how sometimes, no choice is the right choice. Especially for the victim.

Katniss Everdeen is the type of hero you want to root for. She’s kind, good, self-reliant, and the type of person who makes the world a better place. And her world needs it—badly. But her world is trying to kill her, and she has to fight.

I love this book. I’ve always been drawn to underdog stories where the underdog has a heart of gold but is put in terrible situations—situations that test them until they almost break. But they don’t. They survive. And they do so on their terms even when everyone else is playing by different rules.

If you’re like me, you are a sucker for stories about an outsider finding themselves in a new society and having to struggle and adapt to circumstances they don’t fully understand.

Genly Ai is a man who is sent to the planet Gethen to convince the people there to join a planetary alliance. The problem is Genly is so fixated on his manhood and personal identity that he can’t adapt culturally in a world where everyone is genderfluid.

Genly’s political mistakes get him into a lot of trouble that his lone ally Estraven tries to save him from, and it is only by learning to accept differences and listen to Estraven that Genly finally succeeds in his quest.

You can’t go wrong with the engrossing worldbuilding in this book, and as a bonus the people trying to ban LGBTQ+ books will be extremely annoyed if you read a book where… show more.

The Colour of Magic is the first entry in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series and it’s a classic—it being a children’s book should not put you off.

In fact, if you’re new to fantasy, enjoying the light-hearted nature of Pratchett’s work and his appeal to the child’s mind only makes the book more fantastic. I don’t believe I’ve found another fantasy novel that matches the imagination found in The Colour of Magic.

It’s this imagination of Pratchett’s—and his unrelenting self-awareness—that inspired my latest book.

I guess Rowling’s world of wizardry doesn’t show very often in lists about violence. But for me, it read like it.

The saga (in particular its fifth volume, The Order of The Phoenix) is not too different from the gnarliest Kung Fu legends and bloodiest stories of Samurai. The only difference is that the martial arts practiced in Hogwarts uses Wands instead of fists or swords. So, if you liked Harry Potter, here you go: like me, you enjoy stories not only with violence, but *about* violence.

About its lure, its bliss, its improvisational intelligence, and its incredible ability to shape individuals of any kind. Just like it did with my father, myself, and now my son.