Fans pick 100 books like The Stepford Wives

Cormac McCarthy does the impossible in this book—he writes an emotionally satisfying, literary-minded travelogue of horrors. It shatters the reader but then lifts them up with its beautifully wrought prose.

Be patient: the novel gets brutally dark before the light.

Continuing with the Gothic theme, I have to mention one of my all-time favorite books. The estate of Manderley is almost another character in this novel, looming large over the story along with the legacy of its dead mistress. And the community poses an immediate threat to the book’s unnamed narrator, the new wife of the estate’s owner, when she comes in as an outsider and gets the cold shoulder from Manderley’s staff. Her desperate attempts to win everybody over lead to some gloriously nail-biting moments.

But what I adore about this novel is how it slowly reveals that the community’s loyalties are not what they seem. Even the significance of rooms and objects in the house–like Rebecca’s writing desk or the sound of the sea from a particular window–changes as the story unfolds.

What a weird and wonderful book. I've read and reread it several times now, and it always casts its spell. I've never been so willing—so eager—to suspend disbelief. It's Murakami's special gift.

The novel creates its own wondrous world out of what seems to be the stuff of this one—a young runaway, Colonel Sanders, alley cats, a beautiful librarian, a seashore painting, a demented old man—but the result is more magical than any fairy kingdom. I was completely carried along by the experience of an understanding beyond sense.

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 blew my mind! It changed my life and gave me food poisoning; well, maybe it was some lousy shrimp that did that, but it came around the same time anyhow.

I loved the initial point of revenge, how the main character was abandoned to die in a broken spaceship in the middle of nowhere. I, too, would be pissed if a ship flew by me without stopping to save my butt.

I was happy that the book also played with metaphysical notions and cranked up the ending to a glorious finish that broke from the standard good-guy wins trope.

I walked into this expecting dinosaur horror and came away with science and intelligent social commentary. Dr. Malcolm has significantly more space on the written page to delight us with Chaos theory and criticisms of human arrogance, and I am here for it!

While Jurassic Park delivers on horror, death, and danger, it also manages to deliver some thoughtful themes that go deeper than “science is dangerous.” We explore the responsibility we have to keep the power of scientific advancement with experts operating with the temperance that expertise confers.

Thoughtful sci-fi like Jurassic Park must always come with a dose of how we maintain our humanity and navigate our relationship with the natural world as technological advancements flood in.

This book scared the bejeebers out of me when I was just a teen. (Not fair, Steve.) I think it’s a highly underrated King novel, if possible, maybe because the various movie versions flopped. Sure, it’s a horror novel, but I was stricken by the story’s messages about dealing with grief due to the death of a loved one. And it also had the age-old message that we all need to remember: if it seems too good to be true, it absolutely is.

I loved the New England vernacular and characters. I also enjoyed how something as simple as a cat’s death can lead to something infinitely worse. I found it an emotional, tense, and spooky supernatural ride.

I loved this book for the new concepts it brought to me about psychic abilities, specifically telepaths that could block other’s psychic abilities.

After this, I was drawn to the book for the way it blurred the lines of reality, making me question alongside the main character if anything they were experiencing was real. I also thought the idea of the UBIK drug that kept people in a 'half-life' was fascinating and a different way to show addiction and its consequences.

Lastly, the ending was quite thrilling and kept me reading into the wee hours of the morning, even though I had work the next day! 

Jessica Warman’s Between is a marvelous study in flawed characters, who, by their very nature, are at times unlikeable. Ironically, I love unlikeable characters—because they’re written realistically and with plenty of potential for growth. Because I prefer to write characters with realistic attributes, and those in my own book are no exception, I love reading their points of view. Additionally, it’s always interesting when these characters are dropped into situations requiring suspension of disbelief, and it’s even better when protagonists lead a cast of such characters. Between checks all of these boxes. It’s delicious!

David Berkeley, a singer/songwriter, wrote this book of short stories, each one connected because the minor characters in one story are the major characters in another. David wrote a song for each story from the character’s point of view. The music album is called Cardboard Boat and you can find it on his homepage.