77 books like Lockdown

Grant’s book is yet another series that feature young adults who wield extraordinary powers.

From burning lasers, to telekinesis, to canceling gravity itself, I was fascinated to discover all of the gifts that these teens inherited once their little home of Perdido Beach became isolated, in space and time, from the rest of the world.

In addition to those supernatural elements, Grant explores the very gritty reality of what it would be like to live in an isolated city, devoid of adults in which these teens are forced to govern, manage, lead, and feed their group with ever-diminishing resources.

This is one of the novels I read in high school that stuck with me. Mike Mullin’s Ashfall is a story about a supervolcano that erupts and causes unimaginable terror and chaos for a vast amount of the population. The unfortunate event that takes place in this novel opened my eyes to the power of Mother Nature. My own novel centers around an apocalyptic rain event; Ashfall is comparable to my own book in a way that shows how quickly Mother Nature can become deadly when angered.

The Marbury Lens is one of the most terrifying books I’ve ever read. Andrew Smith created the world of Marbury in such a way that stuck with me years after reading it. It teaches readers not to easily trust people and that one wrong decision can lead to a downward spiral into insanity. The apocalyptic wasteland of Marbury was vividly brought to life in all of its morbid glory. The creatures in this novel were grotesque and horrifying. I’d like to see them go head to head with the villains in my novel, the threaders.

Dark Inside centers around a series of powerful earthquakes that shake every continent on Earth and awakens a supernatural inner rage within people. The concept of this novel is incredibly fascinating and is another novel that shows the power of Mother Nature - with a twist. After the earthquakes, the world descends into a hellish landscape that, at times, eerily mirrors events that have taken place in the real world. The apocalypse is brought on by the evilness of humanity, which makes it an interesting read. 

I could not stop reading this book once I started, and I stayed up late into the night glued to its pages. Bauer, a journalist, takes us inside the prison where he got a job as a correctional officer. Through engrossing prose that pairs his daily experiences with carefully researched historical context about incarceration in the United States, Bauer shows what prisons represent in real time. 

This book is key to understanding the economic, political, and social drivers behind the rise of the incarceration industry, which moved on to promote and expand immigration detention using the same playbook.

Ruth Wilson Gilmore provides a powerful case study of the explosive growth of California’s prison system since the 1980s. The book traces how corporate lobbyists for the prison industry took advantage of local economic downturn and racist narratives to push new laws that massively increased the number of people incarcerated, fueling a prison boom.

While a depressing account, Gilmore leaves the reader with a sense of hope and purpose by recounting the rise of a determined grassroots movement fighting the hungry carceral industry, with lessons that can be transferred to stopping detention expansion.

This pick is not without some caveats. This book, Nathan Leopold’s autobiography, was written while he was trying to get paroled from prison and it has to be taken in that context.

There are lies and omissions, but there are also harrowing sections describing the brutality that prisoners faced in the 1920s and genuine emotion when he discusses his complicated feelings for Richard Loeb. There’s no better place to go for information about his life in prison, or to get a feel for his personality, as long as you can read between the lines and remain skeptical when things seem a little too good to be true.

Unlike my other recommendations, this book takes a longer historical view of the prison and also provides a more sociological framework for understanding trends in penal history, focusing on the prison but also its sister punishments like parole and probation. Breaking the Pendulum focuses on the full history of the prison in the United States, from its origins to now. But more importantly, it synthesizes the state-of-the-art knowledge from punishment studies about how to think about and understand punishment: points like recognizing geographical variation rather than focusing on the national picture and recognizing that even periods that seem to be fairly homogenous in their penal policies are actually periods with a lot of hidden debate.

From there, it moves away from the standard narrative of a pendulum swinging between punitive and rehabilitative or liberal and conservative approaches to punishment to a more accurate and mixed picture, and for thinking about… show more.

Reading this book was a no-brainer for me. First – it has Maul in it. Actually, that’s enough of a reason. Who doesn’t love Maul? 

As far as I’m concerned he’s the ultimate bad guy. You don’t mess with him, he kicks serious ass, and he looks wow! My kind of hero/anti-hero. Dark, brooding, commanding, and can stop a conversation with just one look.

He’s the type of anti-hero you can’t help but root for and this book didn’t let me (or Maul) down. Imprisoned in hell, he has to complete his mission while staying alive against seemingly insurmountable odds. Plenty of deep stares, lots of kicking-ass, and a great plot that kept me up early into the morning.

Prisons were originally built for men (really, white men), not for women. But women were sent to prison, just not in big enough numbers to merit their own facilities until much later. Women were also viewed as a difficult population by reformers and prison administrators alike: Women who committed crimes were deemed so morally repugnant that they could not be rehabilitated, so the routines and purposes of prisons seemed not to apply to them (prisons were originally supposed to rehabilitate their prisoners).

As a small and unprofitable population (because they were assigned unprofitable labor like sewing and laundry), women prisoners were considered especially burdensome. Using the prison histories of three differently situated states, Rafter describes the experiences of incarcerated women and how those experiences were shaped by their unique position and the biases about women criminals.