Fans pick 100 books like Everything/Nothing/Someone

Some books are fascinating character studies. Others are riveting stories. When Rabbit Howls is somehow both.

Narrated by a woman’s alters (The Troops for Trudi Chase), this book really goes the extra mile in terms of forcing the reader to feel the lifetime impact of abuse both through the story being told, and the way that story is written on the page. I won’t spoil anything here, but it includes a brilliant, metafictional ending that has lingered with me for years now like a punch to the solar plexus.

I liked the legal and ethical issues raised in this story. Specifically, when should an accused be relieved of responsibility for his crime because of a mental illness? Martin Vail is a flashy, cocky defense attorney who is appointed to represent Aaron, a soft-spoken, well-mannered young man who seems incapable of the brutal, sadistic murder with which he is charged. The problem is that the evidence against him is overwhelming. 

Vail becomes convinced that Aaron suffers from multiple personality disorder and that his alter-ego, “Roy,” of whom Aaron is unaware, is the real killer. But Aaron and Roy inhabit the same body. If Roy is guilty, isn’t Aaron guilty as well? It is an ethical and legal dilemma for Vail. To save Aaron and get him the help he needs, Vail must trick Roy into showing himself at trial so the jury can see him, too. And he succeeds in… show more.

Hacking is one of the leading thinkers in the field of mental health. This exploration of multiple personality disorder helped me to think about similar cultural phenomena, including today’s significant increase in trans-identified teens.

Hacking doesn’t tell you whether he thinks MPD is “real” or not, but he dives deep into beliefs about memory and mental illness. I found his writing compelling and clear. 

I'm always a sucker for "the story behind the story." That's doubly true when an author uncovers long-hidden (or unexpected) information about well-known events. Debbie Nathan is an ace reporter who has written extensively about the Satanic Panic (which is how I discovered her). In Sybil Exposed, Nathan explores a related subject, revealing the truth behind modern psychology's most famous—and controversial—patient.

In far too many stories, Dissociative Identity Disorder is positioned as the antagonist of the story, which results in hideously inaccurate, stigmatizing portrayals.

I was utterly captivated by the way Matthew McKay (a clinical psychologist) did not allow us to flinch from the very real challenges Margaret faced as a result of living with DID, while also highlighting the profound strength that flowed into her life via her alters.

I couldn’t put this book down. It was instrumental in showing me how a portrayal could be both brutally honest and authentically faithful, while avoiding the many pitfalls in which so many portrayals seem to bottom out. 

I’m recommending this book for how delightfully it considers the ill human body as a site of new possibilities. The Doom Patrol have never been well-known superheroes, perhaps because of the willingness of writers to confront the bodily trauma at the heart of their stories.

Morrison’s contribution to the series was to consider the Doom Patrol truly as freaks: people who could not fit into a society that demands gender, mental, and physical homogeneity. Mixing allegorical forms of illness—Cliff “Robotman” Steele’s fallible technological body—with more direct conditions like Kaye “Crazy Jane” Callis’ dissociative identity disorder.

Morrison, along with artistic collaborators, built a celebration of difference into a genre where most heroic bodies never break the mold.

Internal Family Systems Therapy by Richard Schwartz taught me a new way to think about the mind and complemented perfectly what I learned in The Transforming Power of Affect. So much of what causes human suffering has to do with conscious and unconscious conflicts. When we learn that our minds consist of various “parts” that can hold differing realities, memories, emotions, sensations, and more, it is so helpful for self-understanding and self-compassion. For me, I stopped trying to reconcile irreconciled aspects of myself and instead set out to learn about the different parts of myself. This further helped me integrate myself for greater well-being.

Dayworld is an elegant but dystopic solution to a possible future population crisis and one that keeps me thinking about how we should restrain ourselves. Humanity can only endure overpopulation by placing people into suspended animation six days a week. Jeff Carid is a rebel and a daybreaker, living a different life each day as he illegally moves through the week. But, when Jeff’s ability to segregate his seven lives deteriorates, the rebels realise they can’t trust him.

I love how Jeff slips from Tuesday-World to Wednesday-World, etc., easing into distinct personalities. This story made me realise different cultures exist in the same place, often never noticing each other, which we see when Jeff looks back with distaste at a previous day’s persona.

Prepare yourself for reading this book, it's soul-destroying and gut-wrenching. I felt nauseous as I read accounts of the repeated abuse and torture of Jen and other children, their vulnerability compounded by individual and institutional racism. I personally know of unthinkable cruelty in childhood, but Jen’s story is on another level. 

Holding little back she takes her readers in to the cesspit of an environment with human cruelty only usually read about in history books and yes, these despicable actions are inflicted by humans. I chose Dehumanisation because Jen’s story is one that people need to read, be shocked into understanding the risks to our children and the long-lasting and devastating impact abuse has.

Don’t be fooled into thinking ‘things are different now’. The different systems in society and legislation for safeguarding and discrimination implemented over the years haven’t stopped it from happening.

This book by my author friend Marlene puts together the shards of colourful glass to reveal the beautiful mosaic of Tess, a self-made but shattered woman feeling closer to a stranger than to herself, recounting stories about Native Americans, Africans, and the farm life of the poor early settlers in Canada.

I like this book because it addresses multiple personality disorders. I think while it is easy for most to relate to physical illness, it can be tough to relate to mental illness. Speaking from experience, someone said uncomprehendingly after a suicide, “But she was intelligent,” as if mental disablement and mental illness were the same thing. We can also catch a cold without being physically disabled.