Love The Novelist? Readers share 100 books like The Novelist...

This book resonated with me on so many levels. I first read it in 2015 while working at a tech company, and the novel gave me the language to express the unease I felt about Big Tech’s relentless push for “transparency” and “sharing,” often at the expense of privacy. In many ways, the book is an argument about trade-offs—the perks of working for a Google-like company versus the torture of being overly connected.

Eggers also offers one of the most accurate portrayals of life as a Silicon Valley tech worker. The overwhelming barrage of pings and constant demands for feedback felt all too familiar. Ultimately, it is both a compelling dystopian thriller and a thought-provoking critique of the tech-driven world we inhabit, raising critical questions about privacy and the cost of innovation.

This book filled me with pure wonder. The futuristic setting felt like a glimpse into a world we’re on the brink of creating, where technology can be both a refuge and a battlefield. I loved the way it combined a digital universe with a gritty, imperfect reality—it made me think about how much potential the future holds, both thrilling and terrifying.

The sense of exploration and possibility was so vivid that I found myself daydreaming about what could be long after I turned the last page. It’s a story that reminds me how powerful imagination can be. The characters aren’t perfect, which made them feel real, and I was hooked by the idea of ordinary kids taking on extraordinary challenges. This one made me feel like anything was possible in the future.

I was blown away by this book, which beautifully captures the fragmented, jarring experience of being “Extremely Online.” The reader sees the world through the protagonist’s eyes as she scrolls, argues with strangers, and experiences the constant pressure to generate hot takes—especially once an absurd tweet propels her to celebrity.

The book conveys the tension between online interactions (ephemeral, yes, but not necessarily lacking in genuine human emotion) and serious offline issues, like the family tragedy that finally pulls the main character away from the digital fray. I laughed out loud at the over-sharing and performative virtue signaling in the Reddit-like Portal. Haven’t we all encountered “that guy” online?

This book finally offers representation to the weird and wonderful world of internet fandoms. We all know someone who is passionate about a niche interest, and this book focuses on characters who really love trains and comic books.

The protagonist, Kate, works for the Subconscious Agency, an organization that helps drum up enthusiasm for their clients by interacting with super fans on message boards. I especially enjoyed the plot point where the characters track down an internet troll by noticing some breadcrumbs that he left on his Wikipedia page.

Fair warning: This book might inspire some nostalgia for an era when text-based sites like Reddit had much more sway than the short-form videos dominating today’s platforms.

I’ve read most of the books in the Rachel Hatch series, but Downburst is the one that I always reminisce about when thinking about this rugged protagonist.

She is ex-military and her code of honor is non-negotiable: "Help good people and punish those who hurt others." That edict is put to the test when she finds herself in a rural town in New Mexico that lives at the mercy of a violent street gang.

Hopelessly outnumbered and mostly on her own while the police look the other way, “Hatch” as she likes to be called, takes on the entire gang and ruthlessly eliminates them a few at a time. There is something very Clint Eastwood about Hatch in her approach and her demeanor. 

When Jann Arden falls into her role as caretaker to her parents, she uses journaling and social media to maintain her sanity. "I didn't want to feel alone in a room with Alzheimer's," she writes, and so she brings the reader into her home. Comprised of excerpts from Jann's journals, photographs that make the daily minutiae feel real, and recipes, Jann's beautiful book is a generous and very personal gift. Even those who are not already ardent Jann-fans will feel like her friend when immersed in this memoir. I did my first reading in one sitting, cried, and then read it again.

This book focuses on cybersecurity for parents and teenagers, specifically focusing on social media. As a parent of a teenager myself, I know how critical this area really is. Teens are often using social networks and communication channels that their parents are mostly or completely unfamiliar with. Due to that lack of familiarity, parents have a hard time monitoring or setting appropriate limits on the ways their children use social media. Author Effie Manolas wrote this book for both parents and teens, enabling an open conversation on both the benefits and the risks of social media.

I love this book, and it caused a big splash on publication.

The novel takes a highly individual look at one woman’s twin obsessions–a man she is having an affair with and his sometime lover, a woman whom the narrator obsessively follows via social media. On the one hand, it’s a story of infatuation and obsession, about how you can lose sight of yourself in the desire for another. On the other, it’s about how social media and capitalism can combine to diminish us all.

I thoroughly enjoyed it–it’s dark, racy and thought-provoking.

This book gave me a new framework for thinking about how political change happens and how technology shapes our society. It analyzes how social media platforms like Facebook have helped antiauthoritarian movements achieve dazzling success almost overnight—and how those platforms have weakened and endangered those same movements. I loved that this book was clear and readable without oversimplifying the topic. It showed—as Tufecki writes, quoting another scholar—that “technology is neither good nor bad; nor is it neutral.”

This isn’t exactly a book about computer systems, but I decided to include it because it gave me a deeper understanding of how technological and social systems influence each other—which I hope will change how I write software myself.

I found incredibly compelling the argument of how important humility and the willingness to admit what we don’t know are to democratic, liberal thought.

That we have become a society that rarely listens to ideas that challenge our own or that disrupt what we think we know to be true–is hugely dangerous. 

As Lynch explores, more information has not led to greater certainty or confidence in the answers we find. What we are experiencing is not only a crisis of truth, but one of trust.