100 books like Hench

I was pleasantly surprised by just how weird this book is.

It is, as it was often marketed to me, “gay necromancers in space,” but it’s so much more than that. Disorientation, cerebral puzzles, and intricate worldbuilding permeate this whole book from chapter one. Tamsyn Muir is unapologetic about writing exactly what she wants, even if it’s outside a lot of readers’ comfort zones.

I found the strangeness of the societies, the challenges, and the mysteries woven into this book intriguing. It’s a murder mystery! In a high-stakes competition! With queer female main characters who have a lot of friction but are nonetheless deeply devoted to each other!

I loved how new and fresh it felt and that I couldn’t predict what would happen next.

As a lifelong lover and reader of science fiction, I’m always impressed when I come across a modern book and series that feels fresh or novel to me. That’s precisely what I got from The Murderbot Diaries at a time when I really needed it, which has made it one of my go-to sci-fi recommendations in recent years, particularly as someone who appreciates a bit of tasteful humor and snark in my futuristic adventures through space.

This book is dystopian and is really about the downfall of capitalism, but it starts in an office.

Candace Chen has her job and not much else. She goes to work and has little personal life outside of it. She barely even notices when a plague sweeps New York, and everyone leaves, and society crumbles. Her work keeps her busy, and she does it until the money she’s promised shows up in her bank account.

What caught my attention is how well the author communicates the idea that humans become completely adaptable to untenable systems at work, and we keep doing our jobs under nearly any circumstance. Even a plague.

This examination of the conditioning we get to put work first no matter what else is happening is a painful eye-opener. Better boundaries next time, I guess. 

This is my favorite book of Donnelly’s, perhaps because I had the distinct pleasure of meeting her upon its release. This book was an inspiration to me as a writer. Not only is Isabelle considered “ugly,” but her spirit is so downtrodden at the beginning of the story because others don’t believe in her abilities. She must find her own agency and her own belief in her abilities to do great things and realize that real beauty shines from within. 

This one is personal to me. I found this book when I was 8 and fell in love. Like: I have a tattoo from this book. And, yes, it’s about a princess, the very antithesis of a background player, but hear me out.

The Ordinary Princess takes place in a fantasy world that exists in conversation with the classical Western notion of fairy tales and fairy tale princesses. Except in this one, the evil fairy at the christening gifts the newly born, perfectly princess Amethyst (later called Amy) not with a death sentence, but the proclamation: You shall be ordinary. The twist? Amy loves being ordinary. Wants to be ordinary. Fights for the right to be ordinary, to be herself. It is deceptively moving and lives deep within my soul.

This book combines a lot of potentially tired gothic signifiers into one slim package. You’ve got the tortured ghost of the young mother. The scarred young shut-in nearing spinsterhood. The domineering aunt tasked with marrying her off. The cold and distant father just as eager to unload her. However, none of these tropes go where you expect them to go. Iseult Wince, the titular unsuitable young woman, has an inner life and motivations that are deeply weird—borderline horrifying, but most importantly, weird, and all her own. Spinsterhood is the least of her problems. 

I’d be remiss if I didn’t include this YA by the incomparable Patrick Ness. Turning the contemporary Chosen One trope on its head, The Rest of Us Just Live Here is about Mikey, just a normal kid—in a high school beset with the occasional, say, zombie problem that the other, more special kids have to take out. It’s both a classic of the genre while also lovingly parodying it. It will make you feel seen. Read it.

How often have I heard, “Oh, Q. W. Aardvark’s fantasy is awesome, but you really need to read all 8,326 books in the series to get it”! How about no? Fortunately, I learned the secret of Pratchett’s Discworld series: each novel is freestanding.

I like this book because it’s like a cynical, bitter uncle who secretly has a teddy bear—despite the outward grime and gloom of the setting, there’s a hilarious wit, punning, and barrage of pop references underlying the story that gives it a heart. It’s fantasy for those who don’t think they like it.

I had to read this when it came out because it felt ripped from the headlines. Sarah Lai has left behind her Hollywood dreams of filmmaking for a quieter, simpler life. But a journalist reaches out and drags her past to the forefront by asking questions about Sarah’s experiences working with a celebrated producer. There have been… complaints. From women. A lot of women.

Sound familiar? This is a wholly fictional take on past events, but it also forces the reader to examine the ways in which we might be complicit in holding up systems, and what we can do to break bad patterns.

Engaging, timely, and I couldn’t put it down. Again, women find their voices and stand up for other women around them. That’s a narrative I can’t miss. 

This novella has some of my favorite descriptions of the natural world and I love how it plays with its protagonist’s sense of time.

The lead character and his relationship to the forest draw from the mythology of the Green Man, and it’s a fantastic example of how much the narration style can be affected by the viewpoint character.

Tesh’s pose is dreamlike and slow, and all of its elements—the plot, the characters, the relationships—unfold slowly, like winter melting into spring.

Stories rife with forest magic and characters who learn to let go of past hurts are two of my favorite things, and Silver in the Wood executes both beautifully.