Fans pick 100 books like The Echo Wife

Like The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Frank Herbert’s book tells the story of a man who could be the villain or the hero, depending on who you ask. I love watching how an intelligent yet malleable person can be swept up in feelings of duty, responsibility, and leadership only to make highly questionable decisions.

Paul Atreides’ moral ambiguity is undeniably engineered by the shifting and slimy political landscape of the Dune universe, driving home the idea in my mind that good worldbuilding can set the stage for truly complicated characters.

This book takes everything amazing about the mystery genre and transposes it into an endlessly fascinating, well-developed sci-fi world. I was captivated by the web of interconnected plot lines, told from the perspectives of rich and multi-faceted characters throughout the entire story.

Specifically, the fact that all of their seemingly disconnected backstories converge to form the real picture of the story was masterfully done. Furthermore, the final reveal of the story was quite literally the only plot twist in fiction that has given me a verbal “oh my god” moment.

It was a massive inspiration for me and led to my love of a combination of morally gray mystery, sci-fi, and action adventure.

The Ophiuchi Hotline is the first of four novels set in Varley’s Eight Worlds universe, where bodies are malleable things, and appearance, gender, and even your basic form can be changed on a whim. Its protagonist, Lilo, begins by escaping her execution by allowing an illegally produced replicant to die for her. Her situation deteriorates steadily from there, as she is repeatedly killed and resurrected while passing through the belly of the solar system’s underworld.

This book hits all my sweet spots—a morally ambiguous protagonist, an imaginative plot that provides a running commentary on the many ways we’re making a mess of the present world, and, as a bonus, someone getting chucked into a black hole for making a new kind of food called “bananameat” out of human DNA. What more could you ask?

Speaking of noir, Kiln People is basically Mickey Spillane with replicants. This book posits a future where the well-off use temporary copies of themselves to do things that are dangerous or difficult or just boring. The copies fall apart after a few days, at which point they ideally merge their memories back into their original. Brin’s protagonists are a private detective and one of his copies who decides he’d rather spend the few hours of life he’s given doing something more interesting than his original’s scutwork. I came to this story for the fun premise, but I stayed for the deeper exploration of the morality of creating an army of sentient beings whose only hope is to live long enough to be re-absorbed into the mind that created them.

This one is a deep cut, first published in 1951. It begins as a straightforward adventure, with a protagonist tasked with hunting down a dangerous alien that’s gotten loose on Earth. It becomes increasingly clear that something isn’t right, though, and eventually, our hero realizes that he’s actually a replicant, sent to do this job because his original was too cowardly to do it himself, and that his only hope of survival is to murder his original and take his place. I first read this when I was nine or ten years old, and the growing sense of horror as the truth becomes clear has stuck with me ever since, as has the dark, dark twist of an ending. This might be a tough one to find, but it’s well worth the effort. 

I first read this book over 40 years ago when I was struggling to learn how to write fantasy for young readers. I loved it so much that it became a foundational text for me. Lloyd Alexander's gift for building characters that fairly leap off the page, characters that made me laugh but then broke my heart as they were forced to deal with painful decisions, gave me something to aspire to in my own writing.

The series grows in depth and complexity, and the final book makes me weep every time I read it. It provided one of my greatest joys as an elementary school teacher when I used all five volumes as a year-long reading text with a group of gifted fourth graders.

This tale of two African demigods bound together in a centuries-long exploitative relationship was a revelation to me. Wild Seed is an arresting allegory for slavery, eugenics, and dehumanization, but it’s also a large-hearted and sometimes tender work of fantasy. (Or is it science fiction?)

Several of Butler’s works—for example, Kindred and Parable of the Sower—deal directly with class and inequality. But nowhere does Butler handle those themes with greater artistry than in this book.

We meet Phoenix, a woman grown in New York's Tower 7.

Even though she's only two years old, she has the mind and body of an adult, along with superhuman abilities. The death of her lover under dubious circumstances proves that Tower 7 is less of a home and more of a prison for Phoenix. She escapes to Ghana, where she learns brutal truths about colonialism and vows to fight back. Phoenix's fight for justice is electrifying.

I grew more and more anxious to read this book each day. The drama in this page-turner was a great escape from the stresses of a long day at the office. I couldn’t get enough of Dominic Jones, a married man who spends his free time in the arms of his mistress, Tera Larou.

He’s consumed by greed and more concerned with his next fix than tending to the needs of his wife, Donna Jones. No amount of money is enough, and neither is the traditional life of having one woman. I enjoyed getting to know Donna and witnessing how she dealt with discovering her husband’s cheating ways, insecurities about her weight, and accepting that her dreams of becoming a famous choreographer may never come true. 

As the rest of this list hints, mystery stories involving unhappily married couples aren’t my usual go-to when picking something to read, nor is it something I particularly enjoy writing about. Maybe that’s a good thing, given the standard advice of “Write what you know,” but generally, the formula (and trust me, it is a formula) bores me. 

But at the time I came across this book, I was dabbling with the idea of writing an alternating-first-person-POV book in the way this novel does (as an aside, check out Lucy Foley’s books for other great examples of that device if you’re a fan of it too). I saw the acclaim the book had received and figured, hey, Geneva Rose must have done something right; maybe there’s something there for me to learn here. So, I started the book planning to listen to it mostly as a lesson in this technique.… show more.