9 books like Tunnels

I’ve always been a daydreamer on the lookout for my entry into another world. I spent a good chunk of my early elementary years imagining I was a flying pony who could travel to distant lands and perform dazzling deeds. I never got my wings—but I did discover a way to reach those distant lands. Today, I have the pleasure of creating worlds of my own as the author of three published middle-grade novels: The Mutant Mushroom Takeover, Attack of the Killer Komodos, and The Legend of Greyhallow. 

I grew up hearing Scottish folklore told as truth, stories of spirits, warnings, and strange kindnesses passed off as everyday fact. I have always been fascinated by the idea that there is something more, something hidden just out of sight. As a child I was scared of everything, so I forced myself to watch old Hammer horror films to toughen up. It worked a bit too well and left me with a lifelong love of the dark underside of things. Now, as a stand-up comedian and writer, I have learned there can be humour in anything, and sometimes the best way to make something real is to laugh at the awful.

I’m a grown-up who struggles to stay in the here and now, vastly preferring to live in the stories in my head or in the book in front of me. I grew up in New England, Spain, and now have settled in Colorado after traveling around most of the lower 48 states. I’ve been a fan of well written fantasy since I learned to read, and at 35 I started writing my own fantasy stories. Now when I need a perfect getaway escape, I read my own books!

Every book in my list is about change and exploring alternative lifestyles. More specifically, they are all about lifestyle change, with some very dystopian. Meaning the change was the result of the old way no longer being available. Each book is different, but all result in a different way of life, one that includes the basics we all strive for: survival, safety, consistency, family, friendship, love, with a creative outlet. These all nurture our passions and provide for a life that respects our beliefs, morals, and spirituality. And all have extremely strong characters. I also embrace change and look forward to the new, the innovative, and the unknown.

I’ve always been somewhat of an idiot optimist coming up with new and frivolous ideas. Yet, despite trying to inject my last three books with humour representative of myself, I feel a certain sense of seriousness in them. The fantasy genre has helped me shirk that feeling, allowing me to write uninhibited by regular boundaries. Without becoming captivated by George R.R. Martin and Terry Pratchett, I’d probably still be stuck trying to carve out a place in literary fiction—how serious. Fantasy works better for me—I like to make things up, and I like light-hearted books. 

I’ve always been somewhat of an idiot optimist coming up with new and frivolous ideas. Yet, despite trying to inject my last three books with humour representative of myself, I feel a certain sense of seriousness in them. The fantasy genre has helped me shirk that feeling, allowing me to write uninhibited by regular boundaries. Without becoming captivated by George R.R. Martin and Terry Pratchett, I’d probably still be stuck trying to carve out a place in literary fiction—how serious. Fantasy works better for me—I like to make things up, and I like light-hearted books. 

As a queer speculative fiction writer, I often find myself drawn to themes of identity. Reckoning with identity and defining your own (and redefining, and redefining, and redefining) is a critical part of the queer experience in the cis-hetero norms of the real world. Fantasy and science fiction have always given readers a lens to see themselves through, and many queer readers have found their own definitions between the lines of a book. The protagonists and stories in these books couldn’t be more different, but each offers a unique and compelling vision of discovering—or making—a place for themself in their magical world.

I’ve always felt myself to be different, odd, and a bit of a loner. As a child, people said I was "too clever by half," and I both hated and loved being able to understand things that other kids did not. Being good at maths and science in a girls’ boarding school does not make you friends! Escaping all that, I became a psychologist and, after a dramatic out-of-body experience, began studying lucid dreams, sleep paralysis, psychic claims, and all sorts of weird and wonderful experiences. This is why I love all these books about exceptional children.

In school, I wasn’t fond of physics. Most of my education focused on the history of human civilization and culture. I rediscovered physics partly thanks to the books mentioned here—and the strangeness of quanta. My studies, exposure to Tao and Zen philosophies, and exploration of physics have given me a unique perspective and awareness: humanity is merely a tiny particle in the universe, neither central nor the king of all creation. Nothing new, of course—Buddha, Heraclitus, and Shakespeare all knew it well.