31 books like Eight Worlds

I felt awe-struck stepping into Gaea’s hollow world—where zeppelin-sized blimps glide through a sky inside the giant, planet-like being, and forests and rivers hang overhead. Gaea feels both grand and intimate: cathedral-scale biology paired with tavern-table camaraderie. 

And then there are the titanides. Their society feels hand-tooled—full of music and unpretentious sensuality. No posturing, no greed, just beings who live in balance. The centaur-like titanides dwell beneath a colossal tree hung with lanterns… and it all feels alien and warm and cozy and wonderful. 

This one is a deep cut, first published in 1951. It begins as a straightforward adventure, with a protagonist tasked with hunting down a dangerous alien that’s gotten loose on Earth. It becomes increasingly clear that something isn’t right, though, and eventually, our hero realizes that he’s actually a replicant, sent to do this job because his original was too cowardly to do it himself, and that his only hope of survival is to murder his original and take his place. I first read this when I was nine or ten years old, and the growing sense of horror as the truth becomes clear has stuck with me ever since, as has the dark, dark twist of an ending. This might be a tough one to find, but it’s well worth the effort. 

It's all about the unlikely alliance between a woman and her clone in this gripping revenge thriller.

Evelyn Caldwell learns that her husband Nathan is cheating on her when she discovers that he has stolen her cloning technology and replaced her with a more docile substitute. They work together to conceal Nathan's murder and preserve Evelyn's scientific reputation.

However, Evelyn discovers her clone standing over Nathan's body and crying, "It was self-defense." Its juicy premise raises eerie questions about love, justice, and the nature of identity.

Speaking of noir, Kiln People is basically Mickey Spillane with replicants. This book posits a future where the well-off use temporary copies of themselves to do things that are dangerous or difficult or just boring. The copies fall apart after a few days, at which point they ideally merge their memories back into their original. Brin’s protagonists are a private detective and one of his copies who decides he’d rather spend the few hours of life he’s given doing something more interesting than his original’s scutwork. I came to this story for the fun premise, but I stayed for the deeper exploration of the morality of creating an army of sentient beings whose only hope is to live long enough to be re-absorbed into the mind that created them.

This book takes everything amazing about the mystery genre and transposes it into an endlessly fascinating, well-developed sci-fi world. I was captivated by the web of interconnected plot lines, told from the perspectives of rich and multi-faceted characters throughout the entire story.

Specifically, the fact that all of their seemingly disconnected backstories converge to form the real picture of the story was masterfully done. Furthermore, the final reveal of the story was quite literally the only plot twist in fiction that has given me a verbal “oh my god” moment.

It was a massive inspiration for me and led to my love of a combination of morally gray mystery, sci-fi, and action adventure.

The medieval Polish backwoods community feels startlingly alive—crude, superstitious, and the rest of it.

The Okoits, and later Conrad’s people, are rough villagers who drink, farm, and then get up the next day and do it again. At the same time, their sense of being part of a genuine community is unmistakable. 

Frankowski doesn’t just portray a functional medieval society in an alternate timeline; his engineer protagonist builds one, bolt by bolt. There’s this no-nonsense optimism coursing through the story: the conviction that one can literally make a better world equipped with nothing but grit, crudely smelted iron, and the guts to try.

What stuck with me is how this villager society absorbs innovation in a matter-of-fact manner. It’s messy, uneven, and wildly productive. You don’t have to co-sign every norm of its community to be impressed by how solidly it holds together. 

Mammoths grazing outside the protagonist’s dwelling—yeah, that was love at first sight.

And the lived-in environment? Homes carved into colossal, cultivated trees, and people served by public, stackable electric vehicles—yes, please. The land thrives, and no species has been driven to oblivion.   

Sawyer’s parallel-Earth Neanderthals truly appealed to me: the emotional restraint, the honesty, the structural elegance of their culture. Even their norms around maintaining a sustainable population are handled with startling clarity—seasonal, communal parenting. 

No prisons, no poverty, no religion weaponized into hierarchy. Life runs on calm confidence, as if evolution took a gentler branch, and society—as it’d scaled up—managed to keep its soul. 

I love a book that makes me laugh. But if I immediately feel guilty or disturbed for laughing, if the story makes me re-examine my values page after page, that is a home run.

This – the first of the Dancers at the End of Time series of books and short stories – had me pondering the boundaries of scientific reality as well as right versus wrong while also being galactically entertained.

The (objectively awful) main characters are time- and space-hopping immortals. Virtually all-powerful, they can change their own appearance and environment at will. When one of them decides to experiment with the concept of Love…everything, and nothing, starts to change.

A vicious, delicious satire of unchecked indulgence that tests the bounds of good taste.

I guess we have a theme because this second book is also a story in which a woman discovers unusual powers and must use them to outsmart a cunning man who seeks to dominate her. It’s hard not to be taken by protagonist Anyanwu, who learns to navigate her shapeshifting and mindreading abilities, not for ill intent.

Yet, like many stories of powerful women, she ultimately must use her wiles and intelligence to play the long game against her foe. It’s full of gripping plot, harrowing scenarios, beautiful writing, and a powerful protagonist you won’t ever forget.

I actually got to read this book before it was published because Jessica Freely was in my writer's group.

I fell in love with the characters and was thrilled whenever we got a new chapter. The plot twists and turns, and the finale is nail-biting suspense with mind-altering twists along the way.

It’s a book I wish I had written. Jessica passed away last year, but this novel is a powerful legacy.