58 books like Red Sister

This book presents perhaps the most prescient and today-relevant sci-fi premise ever: how could technology evolve without thinking machines?

After reading this book, I finally understood that my thinking does not have to be constrained by the "scientific consensus" of the day. The book presents a future so radically different from what most futurists are envisioning that it not only freed my thinking about science and futurism...it freed my mind of all constraints.

Even further, it beckoned me to explore the limits of my own human potential.

What I love most about this book is how Bell uses a zombie apocalypse to explore the complexities of humanity. I felt that Bell uses the zombie threat as a backdrop to look at how people respond under intense pressure.

I enjoyed the contrast of each character’s response to the apocalypse, ranging from kindness and fellowship to exploitation, violence, and madness. I liked the way Bell creates the protagonist Temple to be both innocent and kind whilst being plagued by guilt and tormented by a belief that she is a sinner.

I also liked the complexities and seeming paradox of the antagonist Moses Todd, whose dogged pursuit of Temple is at times Terminator-like and yet somehow almost chivalric in nature, operating under a code of honor, even if it is a misguided one. 

Who doesn’t want to right the wrongs committed against them? I try to be a grown up and move on with my life when someone antagonizes me, but sometimes I wish there was justice in the world. Who doesn’t, even if sometimes we know we are not being mature? Revenge is the ultimate ending, and Abercrombie’s clever stand-alone novel examines just how cold it really can be. It turns out, not at all. Monza has been screwed over bad. She has every reason to want to get even—which means everyone who tried to kill her needs to end up dead. The bodies certainly pile up but when she reaches victory, Monza finds it more absurd than cold. Entertaining, thought-provoking, and more than a little darkly humorous. Take it with a shadowy laugh.

I love the contrast of bleak desperation with gross opulence and excess that Collins creates in The Hunger Games.

The parallels between Panem and Rome turn what could otherwise be seen as a somewhat far-fetched or unlikely story into a reasonably plausible post-apocalyptic future possibility. I enjoyed the building of tension in the lead-up to the beginning of the games, as well as the explosive release and action when Katniss finally enters the arena.

I liked the way Collins creates an enemy in the very terrain of the arena itself so that, when coupled with the threat of the other contestants, the tension is heightened even further. 

I liked this book because it's a collection of stories about unrelated people's exploits, real and imagined, as they work together to make their mark in a new frontier.

The stories portray amazing accounts of people ranging from the mundane to the supernatural. It's one of the last stories to describe Mars with a somewhat hospitable climate, and that doesn't matter.

The incredible storytelling of Ray Bradbury makes anything that his characters are doing always believable no matter where they are because he writes from the heart.

I remember being twelve, lying in bed and reading this into the wee hours of the night, dimly aware of the train whistle from the other side of town.

The magic of the story – the wonder of the aliens and their world – transported me and wrapped me up and made me want to go rescue alien princesses and liberate oppressed alien peoples. Nothing about this book makes sense scientifically (what else do you expect from the author of Tarzan?), but somehow it still made me want to go to be an astronaut and explore new worlds. 

Don’t write it off because of the terrible movie adaptation or the schlocky book covers. Embrace the camp and feel the magic!

I love the way that Grant has written this book as part American political conspiracy theory, part zombie apocalypse. It certainly takes the political drama into a whole new place!

I liked the mechanics of how the world came to be infected with zombies and the “living with Zombies” society Grant has constructed, which I found to be well thought-out, researched, and believable. I loved the surprises in this book, the unusual relationships that Georgia Mason has with her brother and with their parents, and the general quirks and habits of her and her brother Shaun.

I enjoyed the criticisms that the book makes, particularly around journalism, religion, social media, and politics, and perhaps on the American psyche of distrust towards authority, while appreciated that it did not descend into full-blown conspiracy theory paranoia.

The best description of sainthood I have ever found. In The Curse of Chalion, Bujold starts from a world of visceral reality with a new religion based on family archetypes. 

In her world, these gods are real and play very specific roles within the society, and well-constructed prayer opens up a space for the gods to use one for their purposes. As the main character learns what it means to be a saint, to allow miracles to flow through him (as he says, “like a mule being whipped up the mountain pass”), we see the difference between supportive and unsupportive roles, how failure can lead one astray and how the journey home can be long and difficult. 

Warning: This book contains scenes and situations not suitable for children.

Sometimes we think we are reading fiction as an exercise in entertainment, and fantasy as a guilty pleasure. Abercrombie is a favorite writer of mine because his work does all that, but he also surprises with sharp insight every single time. Last Argument of Kings ends his First Law Trilogy with the most surprising reveal of all—that the moral center does not exist. Not at all. All the blood and death that his characters have dealt out and survived are not in service to some higher good. More than just an exercise in cynicism or a service to violence, this story shines a light on power, politics and the people who stand atop the heap. And somehow Abercrombie does this all while making you laugh and shake your head in amazement.

I stopped and blinked at the end of the first chapter, knowing the author had touched on something brilliant. His character, Kit, asked something I never expected to read in a fantasy novel. I broke out in goose bumps as I thought to myself, where will this go? An ending is a conclusion, and both feel best when they are strong and unquestionable. So, what happens when we find a book that makes us question what is true? Not an abstract quest towards the meaning of life or epistemology, but an indictment of human dogmatism, The Dragon’s Path will make you laugh at your own desire for simple, unquestionable answers.