The most recommended books on psychopathy

Graham Greene’s writing has a profound moral gravity, and I found this story–of a petty criminal leading a desperate life on the rim of poverty while manipulating the woman in his life–to be a spectacle of human cruelty I couldn’t look away from.

Rose knows her man is no good but loves him anyway, unaware that he’s courted her solely to avoid prosecution for his crimes. After his death, she goes to Confession and takes solace from the slender thread of good in him–unaware that he has left a recording behind that will reveal the truth and shatter the only happiness she has left.

As a technical matter, the novel is a master class in holding back a final twist of the knife for a book’s very last lines to leave the reader reeling.

When this book caused me to pull over, park, and listen to the last hour, making me late to my work appointment, I knew I was reading (listening) to the most intense, suspenseful, tightly written novel.

As much as I love horror and the supernatural, none of it thrills me unless it is accompanied by suspense, and no one cranks them out better than Koontz.

When I worked for a daily newspaper, I covered the trial of serial killer Richard Biegenwald. Unlike a lot of serial killers, who tend to be loners, Biegenwald was married. He seemed fairly normal, except for his habit of occasionally killing people and burying them in his mother’s backyard. Serial killers, people who don’t kill in self-defense, or to protect someone from harm, but just because they like killing, have always fascinated me. Sitting in court, twenty feet from a real, live serial killer, was intensely interesting and not a little creepy.

Having covered the trial of a serial killer, I was intrigued by what would make someone do that. The serial killer in Child of God is a loner who’s lost his home and who constantly tries, and fails, to connect with other people. His struggles are as poignant as his deeds are gruesome. 

I’m fascinated by the Manson family; my big bad in my book is essentially doing a Charlie impression, so I’ve read a lot about America’s Boogeyman. This autobiography stands out from the crowd because of its absolutely bonkers voice. Every trigger warning in the world applies, but there are two worthwhile aspects to this lurid tale: one, how much institutional violence created Manson, who spent his adolescence and young adult life in the penal system (when they released him at 32 he begged to stay in jail.) And two, how the charismatic “family” could easily pass for some carefree Instagram influencers these days.  

I loved this book. The concept is brilliant, and as a writer, I’m a little envious that I didn’t come up with it myself. Again, it’s a twisted mind that makes this story.

Laura is someone you hate more with every word that you read, but you can’t stop reading. We get a backstory as to why she is how she is, but regardless, witnessing how she acts as a result, and to people at their most desperate, is very dark. 

This was the very first thriller book I read, and it terrified me. I  was 11 years old when I picked this book up and delved into the world of Fred (who calls himself Ferdinand) and his kidnap victim, Miranda. Approaching this from a young mind, I saw something of romance in the obsessive tale, but that romance soon revealed itself to be a terrifying story of abduction, stalking, and murder.

Why do I still love this book? Maybe it was the first time I realized I wanted to be a writer. But it was stunningly written, provocative, and left me thinking about the characters. It is a classic that should always be in print.

The Cocktail Waitress is the last work of total master James M. Cain, posthumously published in 2014. I started this on a hike and did not stop listening until it was done, netting me quite a bit of cardio. This firsthand explanation of a tabloid murder scandal, as told by its prime suspect, is often hilarious, surprisingly feminist, and darkly sinister. As the titular waitress innocently recalls meeting and marrying a much older millionaire and his baffling demise soon after, it’s clear she’s lying through her teeth. But deducing how and why is the fun of the book. Still, the ending is a gut punch. My book hangover was a solid 72 hours (could’ve been the hike though). 

I love a serial killer book, especially one that can bring something different and original to the table. This book was exactly that.

The book does not tell the story of Ansel Packer, a serial killer due to die on death row; it focuses on the lives of the women around him. Of Saffy, the detective trying to track him down; Hazel, twin sister of his wife; and Lavender, his mother. The tragedy of this tale is shown through their eyes and the shock waves he leaves in his wake.

Beautifully written, poignant, and heart-rendering; I adored this book.

Very few books have left such a searing image in my mind as Iain Banks did with one particular scene in his disturbing novel, The Wasp Factory.

The story is told first-person through an increasingly unreliable narrator who lets us in on his private rituals, unsettling relationship with his father, and anxieties about his escaped mental patient brother.

This is a novel that takes its time easing you into the narrator’s world, and by the time you reach the climax, the culminating effect of budding dread and pure shock is enough to haunt anyone for a lifetime.

The only nonfiction book on my list, this memoir is written by a highly functional, medically diagnosed, nonviolent sociopath who shares how someone with this disorder thinks, feels, and acts.

She will shoplift for no reason. When her husband confronts her, she shows no remorse, but she does return the stolen item.

Like a child who will never learn, she constantly needs reminders of how to navigate a world of rules and regulations.

Personally, I have no tolerance or patience to constantly parent another adult who is wired without a conscious. Lucky for Thomas, she has a loving husband who should be nominated for sainthood.