100 books like The Waste Lands

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.

This novel takes place thirty years after a disease has reduced most of the human population to a primitive state. A thriller with exceptional action scenes and tension, the novel features two converging plotlines that are quests through South America and the southern United States when it is almost devoid of uninfected humans. As with a lot of post-apocalyptic novels the real villains of the story are other humans—their greed and need for control. While this book came out two years after mine, it resonated with me. The themes of trust run strong in both our novels, as well as lengthy stretches of landscape without any humans. 

I love this novel. I read it well after my own came out, but the strong, badass, stoic female main character reminded me a lot of Delia from What Branches Grow (despite Brittle being a robot). The often dark and gritty scenes interspersed with moments of emotion and laugh-out-loud absurd humour turned a story that could have been depressing into one that was a helluva lot of fun. The raiders in this novel also fit the trope in the same homage to Mad Max/Fallout that mine do in What Branches Grow, albeit in a way I didn’t expect. The novel is also a quest through the wasteland with a ragtag group that culminates in a final battle, which is a similar trajectory to my novel (and a plotfline in this genre I very much enjoy).

I read this book after a long, dull period when I couldn’t seem to find anything to read that sparked my interest. Trail of Lightning picked me up, whirled me around, and made me fall head-over-heels in love with speculative fiction again.

Set in a bleak, post-apocalyptic world, it’s brutal and gripping, but where there should only be sadness and despair, there are unexpected moments of un-looked-for kindness. This isn’t a light read, and it isn’t exactly happy—but there’s a beautiful optimism underlying the bleakness, that after all, even in the worst of circumstances and at the worst of times, people can be kind. 

This is an “episode”; three episodes make a “season”. Yep, this series is patterned off of a tv show. What else would you expect from a series that was inspired by two different monster hunting shows: Supernatural and Scooby-Do?

Humor. Epic levels of teamwork… and drama in the team. A revolving door of baddies. Moments that make you want to just wrap our hero/heroin up and hold them forever.

The Hunter Chronicles series has all of that. This first episode is an excellent introduction to Val and all of her guys… Some of whom aren’t human. The whole team’s delightful.

And sexy. Don’t forget sexy.

These shorter stories—that make a much longer one—are like rich little snacks that I love to savor.

RH: Monster Hunters

Another underrated and underread book, this memoir traces one woman’s descent into heroin hell and, ultimately, her recovery and redemption. I’ve known many heroin addicts in my day, and I hate to say it, especially publicly, but very few have been able to turn their lives around. Mitchell is one of the exceptions, and she sets a wonderful example for others to follow and not lose hope. Many memoirists simply make a record of their lives, or, worse, glorify their drug addiction, but not Hanson. Her book is one of insight and soul-searching into the madness of addiction. She pulls no punches about the ugliness of the addict’s life, yet at the same time, she offers hope to the most seemingly hopeless among us. At the heart of this book is a powerful message of recovery by someone, who by all accounts, should be dead.

This is a RH, urban fantasy academy setting book about a girl seeking vengeance for her brother, whom she believes was murdered by someone at the school.

The interesting part to this story is that the FMC’s main suspects are the men she ends up desiring. It’s a delicate balance of getting closer while investigating them, and other strange/horrible shenanigans going on around the school.

I do warn you, dear reader, that book 1 ends on a super cliffhanger, and the mystery is not solved. I’m currently reading the third book and everything just goes deeper (that’s what she said).

One of the book boyfriends is a literal dragon shifter, it counts, and the other one is a harpy shifter, big black feathery wings. Dreamy.

On any given day, this is my favorite book with one of my favorite bars, The Vine, a dive that Johnson describes as “like a railroad club car that had somehow run itself off the tracks into a swamp of time where it awaited the blows of the wrecking ball.” Is it a nice place? No. Would you take a date here? Not if you wanted them to respect you. Could you find yourself in mortal danger? Absolutely. But amongst the addicts and runaways, the small-time crooks and ne’er do wells, you’ll find moments of beauty that transcend the pain of everyday life, becoming, in its best moments, like reading scripture.

Sugar Man’s Daughter follows Nicola’s journey as she tries to escape her demons by returning to her childhood roots. It’s mysterious and dark; the characters are vivid and perfectly flawed; it sucks you in and keeps you turning the page. Sugar Man’s Daughter is an introspective piece that examines the dysfunction created in the wake of illegal drugs and corruption.

Bourgois’ and Schonberg’s accounts opened up the ‘parallel world’ of homelessness for me and inspired me to do my own research on homelessness.

They spent years trying to understand people experiencing homelessness in San Francisco, following them on their daily journeys through institutions and city landscapes; they intimately understood their struggles, from mental health and addiction to systematic exclusion.

Their long, in-depth, and grassroots accounts of people on the street made me grasp their varied experiences for the first time.