Fans pick 76 books like The Long Patrol

The brand of possession is fairly standard: a Drakhaoul possesses a man, enabling him to transform into a dragon—but the man must replenish his strength vampirically.

I like the interplay of personal responsibility and victimization, the use of supernatural powers to protect one’s friends at the cost of innocent suffering.

The Drakhaoul has a name and personality; it’s definitely a discrete being, but it’s also a part of the hero. But then the hero successfully exorcises his demon. But the demon’s memories are left behind, and the hero starts to wonder if he’s going mad.

The demon’s absence, not its presence, drives the hero to madness and despair (even though he hates the demon). The hero simultaneously hates and longs for a dark power, which is and is not uniquely his.

This book features a sort of contest between “real-world” and “fantasy-world” accounts of the hero’s behavior.

Some warriors experience “the Thrill” when they fight: battle is invigorating (because it gets your blood, oxygen, and adrenaline flowing); this is the stuff of modern psychology or biology.

No, wait, the Thrill is basically a supernatural being. Naturally: Sanderson’s world incorporates creatures who appear when various strong emotions are in play. But his handling of psychology is realistic in other respects, so that explanation makes sense, too….

But why does the Thrill affect the hero more than others?  Maybe he’s just a bloodthirsty barbarian. No, wait, he has a special relationship with the supernatural creature. But doesn’t that mean they’re kindred spirits, and maybe the hero is a bloodthirsty barbarian?

You’re soon going to notice that I like clever variations on a common theme.

This book is a really fun mishmash of possible ways for possession to happen: a person can be possessed by a friendly ghost, a malevolent demon—or both at once! The heroine travels back in time (unusual for fantasy) and possesses the ghost when she was still alive. Two good guys can occupy the same body without surrendering their autonomy; but one can also take over when the other’s strength fails.

I also like the interweaving of the protagonist’s adventures in both the past and the present with chapters from a thousand-year-old journal. The temporal complexity works well with the way the characters fold into each other.

Greek tragedy is similar to fantasy except for matters of form (e.g. the chorus). Euripides was a startlingly modern playwright, especially when it comes to psychology.

Heracles can be portrayed as a monstrous monster-slayer (I’m looking at you, Sophocles), but in Euripides he’s noble, brave, and domestic. He performs his labors because he’s the kind of guy to use his powers for good.

Hera, being a jealous jerk, drives him mad; Madness herself is unenthusiastic about the whole affair, recognizing that Heracles has made the world a better place.

But insane Heracles knows that he’s murdering innocent people. Is that who he really is? Is it all Hera’s fault?

There’s a distinctive charm to this entire series, in which all of the characters are animals living in the peaceful Redwall Abbey and surrounding lands.

The various accents, often varied by animal species (mole, hare, squirrel, robin, badger, mouse, etc.), are a ton of fun. Friendships and the kindness of Redwallers are portrayed brilliantly, descriptions are vibrant, and villains are cunning.

Scenes are often opened with vibrant depictions, and food is frequently described with mouthwatering detail. Every single adventure makes you wish you were right there with the characters!

I first discovered The Mistmantle Chronicles completely by accident, and a happy accident it was, as this 5-book series turned out to be my absolute favorite of all time!

As I said in a blog post a couple of years ago, this series has it all—heroic deeds, clever villains, and enough action and intrigue to satisfy readers of every stripe. And this very first book is an excellent starting point.

However many times I read it, it never ceases to thrill and immerse me in that beautifully crafted world populated by some amazingly 3-dimensional characters. And with its underlying Christian themes and symbolism, I would especially recommend the Mistmantle series for any Narnia lovers out there.

Dungeon Critters might be one of the funniest comics I’ve read in years. On top of all the great jokes and gags, there is so much heart in this book. Riess and Goetter have created a cast of characters that are so lovable and have such great chemistry that it makes me want to be a better writer. It’s truly a delight from beginning to end. Bonus: as a D&D nerd who runs a campaign for his kids and their friends, the Dungeon Critters band of adventurers fits right at home in my geeky little heart.

The pegasi characters in this story are a lot like humans, but they’re also a lot like horses. Their personalities are as unique as their names! I love how this highlights a young animal’s life in a really relatable, playful way that adults can enjoy, too. This book reminded me of the joy of horse foals in real life, but it also made me think a lot about what it means to be true to yourself and your calling.

The Keys to the Kingdom is another oft-overlooked series, which I recommend to anyone I can.

I’ve yet to meet anyone else who’s read it. This is the series that made me fall in love with magic systems and worldbuilding. I’ve always enjoyed fantasy more than other genres—something about magic existing in the grass and little monsters hiding behind the trees just made sense to me—but it wasn’t until reading this series that I realized a fantasy world can be more than just a setting.

Magic and the way the world functions can be characters in and of themselves. Whenever I need inspiration for building an intricate, interactive world, I reread this series.  

This fascinating, gender-swapped Pinnochio retelling has a few hints of Frankenstein, and is gorgeously written. The main character, Pirouette, begins life as a tree and is carved into a puppet by her father, then brought to life by the magic of the blue moon. When the powerful Margrave of Tavia commissions Pirouette and her father to make one hundred wooden soldiers or risk imprisonment, they have no choice to comply. And then the Margrave makes an additional demand: he wants Pirouette to carve him a life-sized assassin—and then bring it to life. But is she making a monster or a masterpiece? And can she keep her own origins a secret?