80 books like Oblivion

Vonnegut’s book is a unique combination of satire, science fiction, and raw war critique. Billy Pilgrim, the protagonist, lives out the trauma of surviving the Dresden bombing by becoming "unstuck in time," drifting through different moments of his life, from past to future. This strange, nonlinear structure mirrors how we process trauma in fragments and waves, never in a neat, chronological order. The randomness of death, the meaninglessness of war—all these themes come together in a way that’s both absurd and deeply moving. As we witness terror and violence continually unfold across the globe, the echoes of Slaughterhouse-Five feel ever-present.

The phrase “So it goes” serves as a refrain throughout the novel, after every death—reminding us of the inevitability of loss in wartime, no matter the scale. This book hit me hard with its dark humor and cynical commentary on the glorification of war. Vonnegut forces you to laugh in… show more.

I love a book that makes me laugh out loud and feel something deep about the characters and the world it presents. Ignatius J. Reilly, this novel’s main character, is basically a blueprint for the modern incel: he’s rude, selfish, hypocritical, infantile, and inconsistently idealistic, and while he’d be a horror to interact with in real life, he’s absolutely one of the funniest characters in all of literature.

One of the many magic tricks of this book is making the reader realize they’re halfway rooting for Ignatius by the end of his inane New Orleans adventures.

Eddy Bale becomes a crusader for children after the death of his own young son and decides to take a group of terminally ill children to Disneyland for a holiday. The antic hyperbolic tone of the narration is utterly at odds with the grave subject matter and the novel is as hilarious as it is heartbreaking.  

There are a lot of books about Florida that are bad or shallowly written, but these days, some real writers are setting their books in the Sunshine State. Kristen Arnett, a Florida resident, uses the backdrop of a failing taxidermy business to write about a crazy family and an odd Central Florida town. 

As a fourth-generation Floridian, I found the book true to life and extremely funny. That’s quite an accomplishment.

Mad Science is a comprehensive, engaging, and readable scientific and social critique of current mental health practices. It effectively argues that the fundamental claims of modern American psychiatry are based on misconceived, flawed, and distorted science, and it details psychiatry’s scientifically invalid disorders, unreliable diagnostic methods, ineffective drugs, and damaging use of coercion. The authors are scholars, researchers, and clinicians (Kirk, a professor emeritus of social welfare at UCLA; Gomory, an associate professor of social work at Florida State University; and Cohen, a professor in social welfare at UCLA). 

My mother was a Freudian psychiatrist who prescribed antidepressants as a last resort, while my brother, also a psychiatrist, turns to antidepressants as first-line therapy. I wanted to learn more about why my family members took these different approaches.

Before Prozac is a wonderful history and behind-the-scenes look at the medical treatment of depression and related disorders. I learned about the politics behind restricting access to benzodiazepines (like Valium®), how Prozac® was designed to be an anti-histamine until Lilly found a better indication and much more.

This is the first book I recommend to my friends who have a personal or academic interest in depression. I couldn’t put it down and suggest it to friends who are interested in the history of modern medicine. 

I think it’s powerful and rare for a man to share his vulnerabilities so openly: childhood trauma, insecurities, substance abuse, breakdowns, setbacks. He isn’t sentimental or maudlin about it. Thompson writes clearly and matter-of-factly, allowing readers to witness the messy journey to post-traumatic growth.

This memoir is by a psychologist who shares his own history of traumatic abuse and his hospitalization in San Francisco following years of depression and a serious suicide attempt. His path to wellness is a bit extreme- ultramarathons in mountains for literally hundreds of miles- but I completely relate to how our bodies are key to holistic healing.

I love the descriptions of exercise and the outdoors as I also use outdoor time as a mental grounding (but for about 5 miles, not 200!) Spoiler alert: he is now married with children and working as a psychologist while continuing to practice running, meditation, and yoga regularly.… show more.

Living has all the best ingredients for an epic slow-burn romance: a shocking first encounter, two very different heroines from completely different worlds, a beautiful friendship that unfolds with care and heartwarming tenderness, and a simmering layer of tense attraction that will keep you turning the pages as fast you can to see the burn finally burst into flames. It’s also a story that handles the topics of grief and depression with respect and a poignancy that makes this story difficult to forget. I love romances that focus on the growth of the individual characters as much as the development of their relationship with each other, and Living does a beautiful job at balancing both.

We've reached the only actual “how to do mental illness” book on this list and it’s an all time favorite of mine.

Skoczen is not a doctor or a therapist and isn’t afraid to drop a couple of f-bombs when talking about mental health… so, yeah, he’s a lot like me, which may be part of why I love this book so much.

Engaging, reassuring, and full of concrete strategies for navigating depression both as someone with it and as someone who loves someone with it, I have recommended this book for years. 

Shame is a big piece of the mental illness puzzle; it can be both a symptom and what keeps us from reaching out when we struggle. I didn’t really understand that until I read Brené Brown’s extensive work on the subject of shame. 

I recommend Rising Strong specifically because in addition to helping to understand the shame piece, it gave me a useful tool. Brown talks about the stories we tell ourselves that are often rooted in our fears. For me that resonated because when my depression gets worse my brain tells me darker and darker stories about everything.

This book helped me see that and communicate it. Learning to say “the story I'm telling myself right now is” was a relationship game changer, especially during dark times.