100 Books Like After Dark

I was first introduced to the film adaptation of The Road in my early teens when I went through all five stages of grief in the span of 1 hour and 51 minutes.

I then made a beeline to the bookstore for a copy of McCarthy’s novel, which subsequently solidified my love of end-of-the-world stories in how they can examine what it means to survive.

The Road is a story that has stayed with me over the subsequent decade and a half and greatly influenced my post-apocalyptic novel.

I just love John Steinbeck's writing! I could read whatever he writes on and on.
I loved getting to know the characters and their everyday lives, they felt so real, like family and friends.
I also like how the main theme of the book wasn’t laid out obviously or forced upon me, rather unfolding gradually through a long, slow buildup, making its impact by the end felt powerful.

Murakami has been on my TBR pile for quite some time, but I bumped his work up the list after having several guests on our podcast (Re-Creative) recommend his work.

Kafka on the Shore (2002) follows a young lad, Kafka Tamura, a strangely bookish 15-year-old boy who runs away from his Oedipal curse as he unearths his life while he works at a private library. It also follows, Satoru Nakata, an old, disabled man with the uncanny ability to talk to cats. The translation came out in 2005; it was on the New York Times best books of the year list, as well as winning a 2006 World Fantasy award.

The novel was weirdly reminiscent of Italo Calvino's If on a Winter's Night a Traveler -- not for the way the story was told or even the characterizations -- but for the high-wire act the author is on. I kept… show more.

The tone was both trancelike and otherworldly, almost like being in a dream. It drew me in immediately. The weirdness of the plot added to the surreality of the story, and like a dream, the inevitability of the characters' fates prolonged the impression of being in a dream--or a life--you can't escape from. The author's style created the impression of being in a world both outside and inside the main characters' consciousness. A challenging but beautiful book.

I’m a Murakami fan, and this is one of his strongest novels. I enjoyed the shaggy dog, or more accurately, shaggy man, quality of the story, in which one or two mundane events lead to an unpredictable series of encounters and metaphysical journeys.

The search for a lost cat morphs into the search for a lost wife, with segues into local Japanese politics, the past and future of an abandoned house, and female acquaintances invading the protagonist’s dreams. When the protagonist befriends an elderly Japanese survivor, it leads to stunning long passages on incidents during Japan’s occupation of Manchuria during World War II and to exercises, either forced or voluntary, in solitary confinement. Imminent change is signaled several times by the mysterious call of a wind-up bird.

Haruki Murakami is probably the most famous Japanese author in the world and the father of Japanese magical realism. I have read a large portion of his work, and I have enjoyed many of his books (even with his weird ear fetish).

This one, however, is one of my favorites. It’s two stories in one, and although others sometimes criticize it for not being a good blend between the two stories, it is that separation that actually makes this book a gem for me. It captures your imagination as you follow a human computer down into a psychological miasma of perception and thought.

If that seems confusing, I’m sorry, but I don’t want to spoil for you one of my all-time favorite Murakami books. Also, if you want to know what I mean by human-computer, I guess you’ll just have to pick up the book.

I don’t think Garcia Marquez needs a review or introduction. Reading any of his books is a pleasure, with easy and delightful writing and striking sentences.

These sentences often describe things or people in a way that feels natural and perfectly captured. For instance, he describes the world as so new that many things lack names. His eloquent descriptions, like that of ice, create vivid images. The characters are relatable, and you feel a happy exhaustion after finishing the book, reminiscent of great works like Steinbeck’s East of Eden.

Those who find the stories too unbelievable should learn about Colombian history, as they provide real context. I simply love the book!

This was the book that set me off on a decade-long journey of reading (and re-reading) Murakami. Along with The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, another favorite, I've re-read it at least twice.

So why is it about thinking differently? Because the book is written so differently! If you've read any recent speculative fiction, the author likely owes a debt to Murakami and his wondrous approach to narrative storytelling. You'll get lost in a bizarre, beautiful quest that takes on all sorts of twists and turns.

I was drawn to The Elephant Vanishes because of Murakami’s unique ability to make the strange feel oddly familiar. The stories in this collection range from the fantastical to the eerily mundane, with each one pulling you into a world that feels like a dream you can’t shake. Murakami’s language is concise yet loaded with atmosphere, and he masterfully balances mystery with a sense of nostalgia. These stories are often left open-ended, creating a feeling that reality and dreams are intertwined—a style I deeply appreciate.

Murakami’s approach reminds me of the power in subtly blending the surreal with the familiar, which is something I aim to do as well. The Elephant Vanishes would be perfect for readers who enjoy exploring the gray areas between reality and imagination and savor stories that linger long after the last page.

Norwegian Wood is a hauntingly beautiful exploration of love, loss and memory, rendered in Murakami’s signature lyrical style. It captures the fragility of human connection with quiet, devastating power.