The most recommended climate fiction

For the vastly impossible feat of presenting a sequel to a thoroughly immersive narrative, this did impress. The lead out of the original gives the feeling of the impossible and so it was delivered. Brokering A.C. Clarke's range of brilliance plus getting into the popular references of my youth, in the cyberpunk, virtual reality, corporate elite defining drama, aren't we all familiar with dystopia by now? Where or when does the apocalypse become inevitable and what are you steering towards there or then? I was awe-inspired by this handling of ethical uses of hyper-tech which is one I left up to my reader's imagination by the end of my own series. Whether imagined VR can ever become a coded reality, or if it's only ever going to be imagination, this is the challenge of the Age of Aquarius.

Brandon Sanderson hardly needs an introduction as one of the modern-day heavy hitters of sci-fi and fantasy. This book, though, has a wonderfully creative setting, with a world plagued by sunlight so intense it’s only livable in the thin band of twilight that preludes the dawn.

One of my favorite things about science fiction is when an author creates a fantastical world that has deeply impacted the shaping of its society, from the rulers to the rebels and everyone in between. Sanderson delivers on this front, and I love how integral its setting is to its plot and the development of its characters.

Cherie Dimaline's book really spoke to me because, in addition to great story-telling, it sets Native people in a post-apocalyptic setting.

As Native people, we are so often portrayed as ancient rather than modern. So this work connected the ancient and the modern in a novel way. With relatable characters searching for family and community, it was relatable and real even in the world the book describes.

Unlike the typical post-apocalyptic fare of nuclear war or other identifiable disasters, Dies the Fire posits an interesting question: What if everything just stops working? Everything we rely on to drive modern society, from combustion to electricity, fails. Against this backdrop, a cast of characters from varied backgrounds all must struggle to adapt to this new reality. Civilization falls apart, and new orders spring up in their place. What drew me most to this was the different ways in which the characters responded to this situation. Some seek simply to survive, while others seek to exploit this new reality for their own gains at the expense of others.

For much of my academic career, I’ve battled the stereotype that cities are dangerous and deadening places, and certainly not where you want to be caught after plague decimates the population.

Pat Murphy is on my side. She imagines a post-plague San Francisco where the few remaining residents are artists, not bunkered survivalists. Her city “not long after” a plague is a place of creative eccentrics who defend themselves against outsiders with performance art.

Without the excitement of cities, there would be few new ideas, and it is great to find a science fiction book that agrees.

Autumn is a two-stage apocalypse story that spills out the horror of the world ending from a mysterious infection, followed up by a second, species-crushing wave of terror as the dead return to life to finish the job the infection began. Autumn is dark, and brutal, and is an older book in the genre, but a refreshing take on the trope of zombies. It’s filled with beautiful imagery and characters with depth and runs into a six-book series.

What happens when a cartoonist-television writer and a distinguished earth science professor team up to write about climate change? To me, the result is pure synergy.

Rollicking watercolors and humor-leavened text make hard climate truths accessible and empowering. Yes, the once-climate-unaware protagonist suffers at first as she learns about drought, species endangerment, and other perils accelerating our way.

But knowledge truly is power for the determined heroine, who personifies the kind of persistence and resilience we will all need in the coming decades. She doesn’t claim to have all the answers but insists that together we can find them.

Bats of the Republic is by far one of the most engaging, unique reading experiences I have ever had the delight to enjoy. The breathtaking art decorating every page (and I do mean every page, from the copyright page to the back of the dust jacket) enhances a deep and intriguing story.

One of my favorite parts of this book is that every piece of writing you encounter comes from one of the characters in the story. This makes for a completely immersive experience as you flip through maps, examine drawings of new animal species, and even uncover a few secret messages. Dodson’s incredible art and one-of-a-kind narrative style create a complex, deep world that I couldn’t help but fall in love with.

Wayward is the sequel to Wanderers, which was my number one favorite read of 2022. These books are incredible for several reasons.

The voice Wendig employs is conversational and impactful, the themes are heavy yet hopeful, and the characters were so real and relatable that I still think of them often, though I finished the book back in January.

Oh, and the mystery at the heart of the plot is so compelling it made this 800+ page doorstopper fly by in no time. This is the first post-apocalyptic story I’ve read that left me feeling ultimately hopeful about humanity’s inherent goodness, and for that, it tops my list.

This early-21st-century novel takes rising sea levels as its starting point, and tracks young Mara as she leaves her home island and heads south, towards supposed safety.

I liked that not only does Mara encounter the starving people of the Netherworld, but also the privileged elite who live in “sky cities”. The growing gap between rich and poor, powerful and powerless, has resonances for our own societies today.