The most recommended books about mad scientists

For a deeper dive into how DARPA came to be in 1958 and its history into the early 1970s, read the first book-length treatment of the subject. This book was commissioned by the agency itself and draws from extensive interviews with directors and program managers. Every other book about DARPA lists this one in its bibliography.

Learn why DARPA almost didn’t survive its first couple of years, likened to a “dead cat hanging in the fruit closet,” and how a “white elephant” became its salvation. Someone needs to publish this treatise properly in book form. For now, it exists as a free download from a military website as a PDF of a faded photocopy stamped “approved for public release,” adding to its intrigue.

The author of this short and easy-to-read chapter book goes beyond the story. I recommend this book because I like the last page of the book title “Notes for Adults.”

In busy life, it is easy to let our children read by themselves. It is easy to forget that books contain valuable lessons. It is easy to miss the opportunity to challenge reading skills and make the children read between the line to develop their critical thinking skills.

In this book, the author proposes before, during and after reading activities to support literacy skill. Wow! If you do all of them, this book is worth the money you have paid for it.

All parents and teachers should aim to develop children’s critical thinking.

If you want an introduction to DARPA and how it has managed to play such an outsize role in the creation of the technologies of the future, start with this book on its best-known and most influential project, ARPANET. ARPANET went online way back in 1969, when, for the very first time, two computers of disparate types connected over a dedicated phone line to exchange data.

This book tells the story of how the project came together and how it birthed the internet, offering a book-length case study of how DARPA creates wizardry on a relative shoestring. There are lots of great details here, such as the poor soul who kept getting harassed by one of the first dial-up modems calling the wrong number. 

Vonnegut has been one of my favorite authors for a long time, and this might be the first collection I read that wasn’t specifically for young readers. Some of the future-set stories like “Harrison Bergeron” and “Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow” changed how I saw science fiction.

Welcome to the Monkey House introduced me to Vonnegut and to a love of short-story collections as a form, and it holds up remarkably well.

This story of a scientist becoming obsessed with the psychedelic world was part of the inspiration for writing Ann Marie’s Asylum. The sensory deprivation tank, the electrodes to the head, and the hallucinogenic potion made from exotic jungle plants were bits that just had to make it into one of my books. 

John Lilly, a Caltech and University of Pennsylvania trained doctor who also probed the murkiest waters of the psychedelic experience, was the inspiration for Dade Harkenrider in my book, Ann Marie’s Asylum. Lilly was a genius, who crossed over the edge more than once.

This madcap story involves a militant Christian and a militant atheist who decide to fight to the death over the question of the existence of God. The trouble is that no one in the world will let them do it. When I first read it, much as I enjoyed the two central combatants and their repeatedly baffled zeal, I was even more delighted by the framework of the novel. The Ball and the Cross begins in a spaceship containing a mad scientist named Lucifer and a holy monk named Michael. The theological-cosmological setting seems clear, but this is not a twee presentation of the battle of the angels (cf. Revelation 12:7–10). These two have rich personalities and Michael in particular had a huge impact on me regarding the proper depiction of goodness.

Emperor Mollusk is the evil genius I’ve been waiting for—having conquered earth (and alienated the rest of the galaxy), he’s retired from world domination to pursue (mad) science for the sake of science. He’s got just enough sense of responsibility to stick around to protect earth’s denizens while his inflated ego allows him to ignore that his creations are often what’s putting the planet in peril. Arguments over nomenclature (is it a reverse temporal receiver or an anti-time radio?) made this lol funny, and the fast pace kept me turning pages. I love a good mashup, and this had the right mix of sci-fi archetypes, including a lizard warrior, a Tarzan-like alien in a dinosaur land, an Atlantean goddess, and of course the mysterious “Brain” in an exosuit. 

This is one of my favorites because of what it doesn’t have. There are no alien attacks, mad scientists, or plots to destroy the school with a giant meteor. What it does have is humor, empathy, and kindness as students deal with their real-world problems on the first day of school at Hazelwood Elementary.

Aron Nels Steinke’s wonderfully fun artwork makes reading this graphic novel a joy.  

The author of this book is a real-life teacher, and it shows in the realistic dialogue and interactions between the students. This book truly embodies the saying, “Be honest, be silly, be kind.”

Good job, Mr Wolf!  

"The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" intrigued me with its exploration of the duality within human nature with gay undertones. Stevenson’s novella is more than just a gothic horror story—it delves into the darkness that resides in everyone, questioning whether we can truly control our baser instincts.

The story's atmosphere is chilling, with fog-drenched streets and shadowy corners that mirror Dr. Jekyll’s inner turmoil. I admired how Stevenson used suspense and ambiguity, revealing Mr. Hyde’s true nature gradually, which made the story even more haunting. In the end, it’s a cautionary tale about repression and the dangers of tampering with one’s own soul—a timeless message that made the story both thrilling and thought-provoking.