73 books like The Compass Rose

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.

And speaking of, who better than Le Guin to inspire sci-fi and fantasy stories that are truly unexpected? Dispatches from Anarres, edited by Susan DeFreitas, is an anthology of stories by Northwest authors, all inspired by and in tribute to Le Guin, and the offerings are rich and unique. Like Michelle Ruiz Keil’s poetic war cry of ghost cats in “The Kingdom of the Belly,” Jason LaPier’s fascinating tale of the life of a bee colony—with some of the coolest names I’ve encountered in fantasy—in “Bee, Keeper,” and Stevan Allred’s clever Ib and Nib folk-story interludes. I read much of this book in an ER waiting room as my husband was being examined and then treated for a scary collapsed lung, and the uniqueness of these stories kept me beautifully distracted.

I read Sequoia Nagamatsu’s Where We Go When All We Were is Gone on audiobook, having picked it up knowing nothing about it. The first story opens on a wildlife refuge where experts protect and study… Godzilla. Mothra. And other wonderful monsters of Japanese pop culture. Right then and there, I knew this was going to be a favorite book. Nagamatsu’s stories are nonstop rampant imagination, from the man who can stretch his neck and send his head on long journeys in secrecy via the sewer (!), to the clone child that emerges from an underwater cave—but as much as I can fall in love with a book for its creativity, Where We Go goes deeper, often centering its tales on grief and loss. This short collection is equal parts droll and poignant, fun, and devastating.

I love time travel stories—and Every Anxious Wave is my favorite. What would you do if you discovered your own personal wormhole that would allow you go anywhere, anywhen? Well of course you’d set up shop as an agency that takes clients through time and space to… see their favorite bands play! From this unique premise, Daviau’s novel widens into not only a heck of a musical time-travel good time but also a moving story of human connection. Oh, and some great commentary on climate change to boot. A deceptively deep but thoroughly fun wild ride.

If you’re struggling to find the right plot progression, this book helps with tips on how to map out the storyline. It’s helped me tremendously in several of my own novels. Any writer who cares about making an exceptional plot should have this book in their personal library.

Amateur sleuths tend to be drawn from the professional or upper classes—Miss Marple, Lord Peter Wimsey, even my own Hon Cressida Fawcett—so it’s refreshing to solve cases with Lena Szarka, a Hungarian cleaner who has a clear moral compass and a way of finding out exactly what’s lurking in the dirty laundry—both literal and metaphorical. Headstrong, big of heart, and desperate to solve the death of her friend, Lena can spot a smudgy fingerprint at fifty paces. This book is the first in a limited series and well worth settling down with—just put a coaster under your mug and pick up your own biscuit crumbs, else Lena might have a word…

There are similarities between this novel and mine – the woman at its heart is an American named Lilia, she’s had adventures, and she is taking stock. But then the fascinating differences begin. She is 81, not 57; she’s had marriages and children; above all, the narrative about Lilia is only one layer of the story, as within the book is another book, the diary of a man she had an affair with when very young, and she annotates his revelations with her own. This resonant novel’s strata – like limestone folds, the sediment of a life brought back to the surface – give Lilia, initially hard and sharp, more and more texture as the story unfolds.

I’d be afraid to meet this detective, Slater, in a dark alley, as he’s unpredictable and has a quick temper. At the same time I have to admit he’s the kind of guy I’d want to date. Smart and competent in his investigative work, Slater is a mass of contradictions, a textbook sex addict and in complete denial about it, plus he drinks too much. His pugilistic approach to the world evolves through the series, and in this book his slightly warped moral compass has him working to outsmart the cops to track down a violent conspiracy theorist.

There are thousands of siblings in this book—the offspring of a single queen ant are siblings, aren’t they?—and they are most definitely understated. There are humans in the book too, but it’s the ants that interest me, and their sense of relationship to each other. This is one of my favourite novels. It’s beautifully imagined, and so full of fascinating facts that I can never retain them all, so I need to read it again and again. I tried to choose contemporary titles for this list; this is the oldest, from the 1990s, set in the near future, which we’re now living in. 

I'm an ant researcher, so perhaps it's not surprising that I'm recommending an ant book. But this book is less about the short essays, which do a great job of describing the biology of these social animals, and more about the photos. Most people overlook ants because they are so tiny, but when you enlarge them, as in this book, they show their real beauty. When I received my copy, I was amazed and I have seen many ants up close. But the sheer variety of morphological structures, faces, and yes, even colors. Not all ants are black or red, there are even ants that shimmer in all the colors of the rainbow.

We notice mostly ant workers, but in this book also the males are represented, and they often look out-worldly, so not at all like we imagine ants. A book that shows the aesthetics of these social animals… show more.