100 books like Earthworm Gods

It's almost Christmas, and Todd Curry wants to spend it with his son. What more noble goal could one have? After his flight is canceled due to a snowstorm, he rents a Jeep with some other stranded passengers to drive home. This was my first introduction to Malfi's work, and I picked it up at a used bookstore and went into the story blind (snowblind?). It does not disappoint. Between hitchhikers with mysterious wounds and an isolated town with problems much larger than a snowstorm, Todd quickly realizes missing a family Christmas was the least of his worries. If you like the 'poor choices made with good intentions' trope, check this book out.

Most Masterton recommendations start with The Manitou, which is a good choice, but to really get that 'B-horror in book form' rush, Prey is where to turn. What happens when you throw a recently divorced man and his young son into a haunted house in a quaint, seaside village? Did you guess inter-dimensional monsters? Don't turn out the lights, and don't go into the attic when reading this one.

Fans of Bentley Little won't be surprised to find out this book begins with a family moving from southern California to a small town in Arizona, but, in typical Little fashion, this is more than a small-town horror story. Throw in the author's eccentricities and his proclivity for absolutely insane stories and add a dash of heretical, Eastern Orthodox Christians called Molokans (see, horror novels are also educational), and you have the makings of a fantastic B-horror movie sans jump scares and sound effects. Like many authors on this list, it was hard to narrow Little's novels down to just one, but this was one of my first introductions to Little, and that's why it made the list.

This list wouldn't be complete without mentioning Laymon. The 'correct' Laymon recommendation for this list would be every book he has ever written, but alas, there can only be one. This book is full of violence, but it's more than just a slasher. The several flashbacks bring the story back to when the protagonists were in college together and highlight their antics and show how strong their bond is. Blood Games has it all: a group of friends making bad decisions, isolation from the outside world, and a bloodthirsty killer. Turns out, the Totem Pole Lodge's gruesome past bleeds into the present...

This was probably the first book I ever chose to read. I read books at school or for school, but I saw this being read on Jackanory (for the young ones, that was a TV programme where a book was read by a famous person over five days) and went to the library to borrow a copy. I just couldn’t wait to find out what happened next.

It’s a crazy story of a house that floats off down the street during a particularly bad storm. The family has all sorts of strange adventures on the high seas. It really appealed to my sense of humour and general wackiness.

I read it to my daughter many years later and loved it even more. 

I’ve always loved writing and learning about history. And no one exemplifies the marriage of these preoccupations better than McCullough. With his first book, he didn’t set out to do groundbreaking research - he just wanted to tell a great story. 

In The Johnstown Flood, McCullough does just that.

The book tells the story of one this once flourishing town that was destroyed when a nearby dam gave way, and a deluge swept away homes, businesses, and people. 

Throughout the book, McCullough brought these poor souls back to life through great prose and an ability to connect with his subjects. Even though this happened well over a century before I read the book, it made me feel, at least a bit, the devastation of the event.

This classic award-winning book is a must-read for anyone interested in traumatic events. Sociologist Kai Erikson was the first to equate a major disaster with individual and community upheaval, based on the 1976 Buffalo Creek dam flood. He details how this event traumatized individuals and caused a breakdown of community relationships and a rise in crime, unethical behavior, and major out-migration. Many of the emotional and social effects of disasters had not been discussed or treated when this book was written. Much has been learned since. However, Erikson stresses that many of the psychological and sociological problems continue to exist when calamities occur today and must be resolved. 

I appreciate the gentle way Ellen Leventhal empowers children in this picture book—showing even the youngest child can do small things to help others. Charlotte, the main character, her parents, and her toy bear arrive at the shelter after evacuating their home because of flooding. Charlotte watches people at the shelter and in the community share acts of kindness with the flood victims. Even though she is sad and upset, she follows their example. When Charlotte sees a younger child crying because his teddy was lost in the flood, she gives her stuffie to the little boy. It reminds me of how attached my two-year-old grandson is to his teddy bear. These small gestures shine a light of healing and hope during a natural disaster. 

There is no New Orleans without the Mississippi River.  

Rising Tide tells the story of government and engineers’ flawed efforts to control this mighty river, and how they contributed to the disastrous 1927 flood that left over one million people homeless and destroyed scores of towns. 

It provides a rich picture of the enduring social and racial divides in early twentieth-century New Orleans.

Moreover, it reveals how the city’s wealthy white leaders chose to flood neighboring communities to protect the city while undermining efforts to compensate the victims—creating a precedent for injustice and corruption, and ensuring a long-standing distrust of the city’s levees and flood control system.    

Climate change may well be increasing the frequency and intensity of violent storms and hurricanes, but they are certainly nothing new.

This is a vividly written account of what has been dubbed one of the worst natural disasters to have ever hit the United States, the hurricane that hit Galveston, Texas, in 1900. The narrative is constructed using the letters and reports from Isaac Cline, a meteorologist working at the US Weather Bureau at the time.

The storm described in this book occurred 124 years ago, yet readers will find eerie precursors to the issues we hear being discussed globally today: despair at our seeming hubris and disturbing unpreparedness in the face of increasingly volatile and unpredictable natural events.