100 books like The Bachman Books

Personally, I have owned 3 copies in my lifetime, two of which I read into tatters. Clive Barker remains one of the most unusual imaginations in horror to date. If you can’t find something in this collection that you enjoy, pull out the femoral stick. These stories have been translated into film almost as often as Carrie. 

Jeff Strand is the flip side to the coin that I continually try to write. He takes a horrifying premise and makes it funny. I try to take a funny premise and make it horrifying. We both succeed to varying degrees.

The opening story in Gleefully Macabre Tales only spans 750 words and it was the last time I can remember laughing out loud at a written story. It concerns a door-to-door magazine salesman, crotchety old man, and a Weiner dog. To embellish further would be to betray the author’s intent. But know that if you do not find yourself smiling by the time the tale is told you desperately need to check for a pulse.

I should not have to recommend the president of the Horror Writers Association, but if you are unfamiliar to Lansdale, this is a great introduction. He is a caustic voice with no pretense, or subtlety. I love him for his sincerity, his abruptness, and his ability to make me feel really bad for laughing.

Best known for penning the infamous Psycho. Robert Bloch, is perhaps the greatest horror author of the 20th century. He is to short-horror fiction, what Ray Bradbury is to the science-fiction genre. Though he is often overlooked for names such as King, Lovecraft, and Barker, Rober Bloch is the preeminent master of the subtle scare.

Women are the top consumers of true crime. But why, when the stories so often feature women as victims of violence? New Yorker journalist Rachel Monroe profiles four different women in the roles of Detective, Victim, Defender, and Killer to see what it’s all about. The reporting and context in this book are staggering, and Monroe’s writing is both critical and empathic. 

If you vividly remember the Columbine High School shooting or any of the horrific moments of spectacle violence in the subsequent two decades (Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook, Parkland, etc.), this book answers questions you might have been afraid to ask, such as, how do parents of these “monsters next door”– in particular their mothers – survive in the wake of such horror, and where do they find grace? As a mother to three boys and two girls, in a 21st-century America that continues to be plagued by gun violence, I read (and re-read) Sue Klebold’s honest story, aware on every page, that the reverberating effects of Columbine, complete with active-shooter training in our kids’ schools, still permeate our everyday lives.

Columbine is a masterful piece of reportage from a journalist who covered from the start what is now perceived almost as a tragic prototype of mass school shootings in the US. Through meticulous, painstaking research—and with a compassionate and keenly observant voice that I especially admired—Cullen unspools the consequential misperceptions about the Columbine shooters that have distorted popular understandings of the “school shooter” ever since through repetition and media simplification.

What’s new and surprising here, and that remains relevant years after the book’s first publication, is that Columbine killers Eric Harris and Dylon Klebold weren’t victims of bullying, socially alienated by marauding gangs of “cool” kids and jocks, or radicalized by Goth culture. They had friends, jobs, and, perhaps most frightening of all, seemed largely to be average high school students, not appreciably different from our own children, who in fact did more bullying than they were bullied. “So we’re… show more.

Given the alarming number of recent deaths by gun violence it is especially illuminating to consider the various ways sites of violence have been commemorated.

Ranging from total disappearance, to informative plaques, and major memorials, communities have reckoned with the aftermath in radically different ways.

I loved this book because it made me think about the content of site - or rather the content we attribute to the ground - where something shocking happened, be it a mass shooting or any other tragic event. 

Writing as Richard Bachman, this quite short story (for King) is set in a future where once a year, young people are invited to take part in the ‘Long Walk.’ The premise is simple; you walk until you can’t walk any further. Keep above a certain speed limit or, after a couple of warnings, the soldiers who trail the walkers will shoot you dead. The winner is the one who survives. It sounds stupid, but, my God, when I first read it, I felt as if I had been on the walk with the characters you get to know. Horrifying simply because of the skill of King’s writing in describing the feelings of utter exhaustion and terror along the way. Human horror at its peak.

Early in his career, Stephen King wrote half a dozen books under the pen name “Richard Bachman,” and decades later, he revived Bachman for one last novel about a small-time crook who depends on advice from his deceased partner in crime when attempting to pull off the kidnapping of a millionaire’s baby.

It reminds me of Steinbeck, with its pairing of a hapless, brutish soul and a smarter, slicker partner who can’t save him from himself, and the windings of fate as King spins them out broke my heart.

Does a kidnapper deserve sympathy? No, but then again, yes, and the amazing thing is how powerfully Stephen King puts you in this unfortunate man’s shoes and makes you feel what he’s feeling.