100 books like Where We Go When All We Were Is Gone

I first read Slaughterhouse-Five as a callow college student, concluding with the certainty of youth that this was a brilliant but weird amalgam of dark humor and sci-fi wrapped inside an autobiographical anti-war screed. However, my real ‘duh’ moment came after rereading the book decades later.

The opening line, “Listen: Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time” – tells you everything you need to know: It’s about PTSD, written from the inside looking out. Like Billy Pilgrim, I could see myself time-jumping and being abducted by aliens to escape the trauma of war. Interestingly, the term “PTSD,” the acronym for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, had not entered our lexicon when Vonnegut wrote Slaughterhouse Five in the 1960s. Poignant and personal, it's still a brilliant amalgam of dark humor and sci-fi. 

The Compass Rose is certainly less well-known than many other Ursula K. Le Guin books, but I think it’s a fantastic example of a book that takes you to unexpected places. It’s a fascinating and varied collection, but my favorite piece by far is “The Author of the Acacia Seeds and Other Extracts from the Journal of the Association of Therolinguistics.” It starts out wonderfully nerdy and weird, with a scholar’s detailed reporting of the “writings” of an ant as written, using touch-gland exudation, on seeds in an anthill. From there it gets weirder, and more esoteric, until it lands in a place sweeping and unimaginable. It’s one of those stories that did something a story had never done to me before, and because of that, it holds a very special place in my heart.

And speaking of, who better than Le Guin to inspire sci-fi and fantasy stories that are truly unexpected? Dispatches from Anarres, edited by Susan DeFreitas, is an anthology of stories by Northwest authors, all inspired by and in tribute to Le Guin, and the offerings are rich and unique. Like Michelle Ruiz Keil’s poetic war cry of ghost cats in “The Kingdom of the Belly,” Jason LaPier’s fascinating tale of the life of a bee colony—with some of the coolest names I’ve encountered in fantasy—in “Bee, Keeper,” and Stevan Allred’s clever Ib and Nib folk-story interludes. I read much of this book in an ER waiting room as my husband was being examined and then treated for a scary collapsed lung, and the uniqueness of these stories kept me beautifully distracted.

I love time travel stories—and Every Anxious Wave is my favorite. What would you do if you discovered your own personal wormhole that would allow you go anywhere, anywhen? Well of course you’d set up shop as an agency that takes clients through time and space to… see their favorite bands play! From this unique premise, Daviau’s novel widens into not only a heck of a musical time-travel good time but also a moving story of human connection. Oh, and some great commentary on climate change to boot. A deceptively deep but thoroughly fun wild ride.

This series is very elegantly written, but that’s not what makes it the most unique on this list. For a start, the protagonist is a skinny womanising drug-addict immortal with enormous wings. Yes, you read that right. He can fly, he drinks coffee, and when he overdoses he trips into a parallel universe. Several, actually. What else inhabits these strange worlds? Giant ants. And it’s these horse-sized monsters that the people of the Fourlands are embroiled in bitter conflict with. They pour through dimensional tears in waves, and the fighting is frenetic, bloody, and gruesome. Swainston has an almost forensic approach to the description of violence in these books, and it adds a dash of realism to an otherwise wildly fantastical setting and premise. A criminally underappreciated series.

Much of my struggle with any form of exercise stems from lack of self-confidence and poor self-image. In his humorous collection of comics, best-selling author “The Oatmeal” lays out what goes in inside most runners’ (and many non-runners’) minds. Food! Weight! Getting lost! Oh my! By poking fun at this somewhat insane sport that I’ve come to love (which many nonrunners call punishment) and his naming of that inner critic as “The Blerch” made me feel seen and heard. It’s truly a classic and one of his best works.

Dev Pilkey is another New York Times best-selling children’s book author that I highly recommend for funny picture books that children will sit still for.

His Captain Underpants series is read worldwide and even earned its main character a float in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

As a children’s Librarian this is another sure shot book I loved to pull from my shelf if ever I needed an emergency read or as a recommendation for parents looking for a book to interest boys who were more interested in action stories.

This book is a follow-up to Pilkey’s Dogzilla. In both books Pilkey’s humor is a parody. In Dogzilla he uses photos (which is always a novel idea) superimposed on illustrations. Dogzilla acts like Godzillia combating mice.

In Cat Kong the cat is a parody of King Kong and battles the same mice for control of mouse-opolis.

This book is… show more.

The Victorians loved mummies and mummy stories... and before I read The Mummy’s Curse, I’d never heard of any of them! The nineteenth century’s obsession with Egypt and curses doesn’t get talked about much today. This book opened me up to a whole new world of stories, including some strange curse tales that never got quite as big as King Tut. (Which is a shame, because some of them are wonderfully creepy!)

Southerners rarely spoke of "the South" until slavery began to be threatened in the 1840s; slavery made the South. The North was far more fragmented--until an anti-slavery culture took hold in the 1850s. Brooke is highly sensitive to the role of popular culture in forging that consensus--not just Uncle Tom's Cabin, the most influential novel in American history, but local theatricals and the poetry of John Greenleaf Whittier. Here was the original, unbridgeable division between red and blue states.

Alice Echols is not only a renowned historian of the post–World War II era, exploring gender, politics, and pop culture, but she is also a former club DJ herself. She brings those experiences to her resurrection of the much-reviled disco scenes of the 1970s, which, before they became corporate big business, were the site of contests over the voices of American culture.

But more than that, Echols reveals how disco was an underground phenomenon, one whose origins are somehow more hidden than punk’s, and connects transnationally across oceans and across U.S. communities that reveal a complicated map of U.S. culture that defies common tropes.

More than a chronicle of disco’s rise and fall, Hot Stuff instead explores “shifts in identity and representation and the debates they triggered,” as well as reveals the dynamics between underground and commercial that would roil college radio. On top of it all, Echols’s engaging writing… show more.