96 books like Wallflower Assassin

The Outside is a gripping sci-fi novel with a queer autistic protagonist, written by an autistic author who perfectly conveys the flavor of autistic thinking. This one’s set far in the future, in a galaxy-spanning theocracy ruled by powerful artificial intelligences that have set themselves up as gods. Scientist Yasira Shien has developed a brilliant new energy drive. The problem? Turns out the drive taps into an extradimensional reality called the Outside, which, true to its name, exists outside ordinary spacetime—and which is capable of spilling over catastrophically into the material world. Highly original world-building blended with classic space opera. Compelling characters and a plot that had me hooked all the way. Oh, and it’s the first book in a trilogy!

Autistic minds are uniquely suited to interface with 26th-century computers. Has this led society to appreciate autistic people? Of course not! Instead, they’ve been turned into a caste called Operators, enslaved computer programmers denied human rights. But this is starting to change, and recently-liberated Operator Hoshi Archer has a new life as a private investigator. Her latest case? A serial killer who’s ritually murdering Operators. Dora Raymaker vividly describes autistic experience in a way that no non-autistic writer could, and it was profoundly moving for me to read a book written from the viewpoint of a character whose sensory processing was so much like my own. On top of all this, Hoshi and the Red City Circuit is a gripping can’t-put-it-down detective thriller!

Transgender anarchist author Margaret Killjoy’s collection of short speculative fiction stories, We Won’t Be Here Tomorrow, is a stark contrast to the dazzling high-tech fantasies and cinematic adventures of my first three recommendations. Most of these stories are set in disturbingly plausible and not-at-all-distant futures, and veer into the territories of dark fantasy, gritty dystopianism, and atomspheric horror. No interplanetary space opera here; Killjoy’s protagonists are earthbound, anarchistic outcasts and misfits struggling to survive on the edges of society or in society’s ruins, in worlds gone unfathomably strange. And Killjoy writes it all beautifully, with a clarity of description that often left me stunned by its simple poetic power. This one’s for you if you like your speculative fiction close to the bone.

Okay, I’m bending the rules just a little bit here. We’re not supposed to include our own books on this list—and this isn’t my book, but I am one of the three co-editors. No list of essential neuroqueer fiction would be complete, though, without mention of the annual Spoon Knife neuroqueer lit anthology. Spoon Knife accepts fiction of all genres, plus some short memoir and poetry; anything goes, as long as the editors deem the content and style to be sufficiently neuroqueer (and each volume has a different team of editors). I picked Volume 5 for this list because it’s a volume that ended up including a lot of speculative fiction. Pieces by 24 authors, all wildly different from each other, each one a strange little neuroqueer gem.

I first read this book not because of interest—in fact, I hadn’t read anything else by its author, Robert Ludlum. Instead, I read this novel because I had been told that my writing was like that of Ludlum’s.

And that is startlingly true. It was as if reading something I had forgotten having written but which was richer with a depth of ever-increasing emotional nuances than works of a comparable kind. It’s a compelling read.

Through a combination of unusual story elements and narrative style, this novel engages a reader in the main character’s journey to discover his forgotten identity. Although this isn’t an all-that-unusual aspect of story-telling, the espionage element makes it a singular literary experience. Over the course of the novel, I progressively felt as if I were spending time with a really awesome friend. And this is owed to, I think, the “slow burn” of empathy compelled… show more.

Alice Lake finds a man on the beach outside her house, but when she asks the man who he is, he can’t give her any answers because he says he doesn’t know who he is either. He’s lost his memory and his identification. Alice decides to help the unknown man and invites him into her home.

While Alice tries to help the unknown man figure out who he is, she also can’t help but wonder who she’s let into her home. He seems perfectly harmless, but is he? It reminds me of what I’ve felt in relationships. I’ll like someone, but then I’ll get to know them and start to wonder who they really are. I’ll look at a friend and wonder, where did you come from?

Talk about crazy experiments! Maze Runner is an epic quest combined with a nod to those who love solving puzzles on steroids. This is truly an end-of-the-world scenario, or I surely hope it is. While I can see some mad scientists excited about such an experiment today, it is still frowned upon. Thank goodness. But Maze Runner explores “science” gone rogue.

Indifference again plays a central role in the plot as those outside the experiment use a variety of psychological warfare techniques to keep the participants engaged in the game. The reader feels sorry for them having to overcome everything that’s thrown at them or die. I loved how the group of teens had to work together to figure out what was going on and then face the difficulty of extracting themselves from the maze. Ultimately, I loved that friendship and working together triumphed at the end of the day.

Corkin, a research psychologist, presents a fascinating case study of her patient, Henry Molaison, a man with no memory. Molaison—or H.M., as he was known in the scientific literature until his death in 2008—was a 27-year-old with severe epilepsy when he underwent radical brain surgery in 1953 to cure his intractable seizures.

Though Molaison’s seizures largely abated after the operation, he developed an even bigger problem, which manifested almost immediately after his surgery. Daily events vanished from his mind almost as soon as they had occurred.

Like most patients living with dementia, he could form no new long-term memories. With no new memories, he lived in a perpetual present, disconnected from his past (or at least the past after his surgery) and his future.

A thriller with a kick-ass premise: Chloe wakes up on the side of a highway not knowing who the heck she is or how she got there.

It’s a haunting, scary, unnerving story about a woman trying to figure out what could have happened to completely wipe out her memory. What I love about the novel is how Wong’s relentless pace matches lockstep with her protagonist’s frenzied and fractured state of mind.

Bits of the past begin to slip through the cracks as Chloe searches for the truth. I love that Wong chose to tell the story from Chloe’s POV so we’re only privy to what this messy character remembers—or chooses to tell us that she remembers. Twisted, damaged characters with secrets are my cup of tea.

While Moriarity is known for Big Little Lies and more recent works, this earlier novel pulls no punches in telling the story of Alice, a perpetually dissatisfied and grumbling suburban mom who lives a comfortable and privileged life but feels chronically annoyed by the daily grind of parenting, household, volunteering, and keeping up with the competition.

Readers will recognize her descent into a rabbit hole fuelled by the stresses of competitive parenting. The jokes are sharp, characters relatable and the payoff of psychological growth makes for a worthwhile read.