100 books like Mockingjay

This is an absolute classic of the genre. Brooks draws in various ‘accounts’ of a recent zombie outbreak and structures them as if the broad details are common knowledge to his in-universe audience.

This approach means the real-world reader is always discovering new details and nuggets of information in a way that really whets the appetite while increasing the sense of horror at the way events unfolded in a world that isn’t quite our own.

The unique underground setting hooked me from the start.

Ember is the last beacon of light in a darkened world, and now even its great lamps are at risk of going out. Friends Lina and Doon must find a way to keep them burning or face utter darkness and the end of civilization as they know it.

I loved the post-apocalyptic feel to this story, as well as all the mysteries and secrets lurking behind every dimly lit corner. 

This book takes what would seem–on the surface–to be an incredibly grim and morally gray story and frames it such that it can be read by younger audiences. I read this book when I was eleven years old, and it truly laid the groundwork for my current love of dystopian sci-fi.

The premise is unique, the characters have complex motivations, and the stakes are endlessly high–after all, humanity was in a bad enough position that it was willing to drop a hundred teenagers on an irradiated planet. In my opinion, such a difficult decision casts a very realistic light on the characters, as their actions could very well happen in the material world. It’s just a matter of how desperate mankind gets.

About halfway into Red Dragon, you meet Francis Dolarhyde, and from then on, the book is all his. Forget the FBI who are looking for him, the only person you care about is Dolarhyde, the serial killer who’s been brutally murdering entire families.

As far as I’m concerned, he’s the hero. Hannibal Lecter isn’t Thomas Harris’ best villain. It’s Dolarhyde. He’s everything Lecter isn’t. He’s awkward, shy, hates his body, hates himself and spends all his time stewing on his inadequacies. If I’ve got to pick between the Virgin Dolarhyde and the Chad Lecter, it’s Dolarhyde every time.

Deep down, he just wants to be loved, but the way he goes about it is almost comically misguided. Dolardhyde is on an impossible, bloody mission to fix himself, and no matter how many bodies he drops trying to do it, I’m always rooting for him to make it out the… show more.

While I don’t always love mainstream classics, The Giver is a classic for a reason, and, in my opinion, it rightfully deserves its place on the shelf.

I love the emotional draw of this book and the invitation to think deeper about the meaning of life and the burden it can take on us. I love books that challenge us to think about the bigger concepts of life and all they entail: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

This book opened in a graveyard and never let me go from there.

It’s not the sort of book I expected to like, let alone be wowed by or to be pleasing to a kid, but it works so well. Neil Gaiman’s writing is almost never stronger than it is here and every page kept me hooked to the point where I just wanted to keep reading, page after page.

I loved these books. The mystery of this society and its strict divisions fascinated me. I related to Tris immediately and her need for more excitement than her Abnegation family could provide. The detachment felt by so many of the characters in their daily roles resonated in my soul as something I have felt as well when confined by societal definition.

As I reflected in our own society, those at the top scheme to gain power for themselves, regardless of the effect on the rest of the people. I was proud of Tris and her colleagues, who joined together to create a better, more just society.

The graphic novel is one rush of scares and thrills. Set in the city of Barrows, Alaska where the sun doesn’t rise for thirty days during winter, the place becomes the perfect grounds (feasting, that is) for a group of vampires. And these monsters aren’t sparkling and pretty by any stretch. It’s up to Sheriff Eben Olemaun to survive with a group of townspeople, but the how and they why they do is one great story, aided by atmosphere illustrations.

You can’t get much more food-oriented in science fiction than a novel called The Hunger Games, and true to its name, food and food politics play a central role in the book’s theme. The book’s author, Suzanne Collins, uses juxtaposition and food politics throughout the series to highlight the difference between the haves and the have-nots. While all the books in the Hunger Games series highlight these discrepancies, it’s Collins’s second book Catching Fire where the differences are most pronounced. The feast in the Capitol, along with its potions to induce vomiting (and by extension, encourage more eating), stands out in particular: The reaction of the book’s main character, Katniss Everdeen, herself a poor girl from the Seam of District 12 makes this scene both comical and revolting.

I fell in love with Katniss from the very beginning. I was the oldest daughter in a single-parent family and had to take over and care for my younger sisters a lot of times because my father was dysfunctional. So I get it. The whole concept is horrifying to me—children forced to kill each other—but following along as Katniss manages to defeat the fate waiting for her inspired me.

I related to how she did most of it on her own, seeing as she had been let down by her mother, her country, and, later, those she thought were friends. Trust is so important and valuable for young people to have, and so easy to destroy.