Books like Deadpool Firsts — picked by fans

I am in awe of the repressed, elegiac emotion that Ishiguro brings to his characters.

Never Let Me Go kept me in a state of constant tension between Kathy’s version of events (which is full of omissions and self-deception) and the version I was constructing in my own head (which was so often at odds with hers).

This is something Ishiguro also does brilliantly in other books, but here I was particularly drawn to the deft way he shows us a morally bankrupt adult world through the eyes of an adolescent protagonist – that’s exactly the territory I write.

Like the fish who doesn’t realise the water is there, Kathy struggles to understand the true nature of Hailsham until it’s far too late; and there’s real moral anger behind the quiet delivery.

I find that Frankenstein transcends eras by posing critical questions about the ways we develop and use new technology.

I first read a comic-book version in elementary school and have returned to Shelly’s novel over the years because it stimulates my critical thinking about technology, particularly the current rise of AI and our response to it. Frankenstein raises a fundamental ethical question about technology in real life: just because humans can create something, should they actually create it?

For me, the novel also creates the opportunity to explore questions about how we engage technology once we choose to invent it. Dr. Frankenstein abandons his creation, and the creature becomes an angry monster. I ask myself, is this an allegory for our own response to technology?

Although technically not about Cyborgs, this brilliant novel traces scientific experimentation and investigation through the 20th century—employing a tantalizing mixture of fact and fiction.

It opens with the strange fact of the Nazi commander Hermann Goring’s fingernails which are “stained a furious red” from his prolonged ingestion of dihydrocodeine, which “William Burroughs described as similar to heroin…”, and goes on to track how the gas, Zycone B, used in the concentration camps to kill the Jewish prisoners was in fact developed as an insecticide to preserve crops and save the lives of millions of people who would have otherwise died of starvation.

The terrible irony is that the scientist who developed Zyclon B received the Nobel Prize for his life-saving work against famine. You can’t make this stuff up.

Like Frankenstein, this is another iconic work about transformation, power and powerlessness, monstrousness and isolation.

Each time I read it, I am struck by how vivid the central image is, and how sad and stark: Gregor Samsa, who is a young salesman living with his parents and sister, wakes up one day to find that he is a giant cockroach.

Kafka is brilliant at inhabiting this bug-like man, all the details are convincing—what he likes to eat, how he moves. It is a powerful allegory about being shunned and different, and about family dynamics. I have read it many times and each time I am engrossed and filled with awe and admiration.

I will read anything by Mary Roach because she’s hilarious.

But in particular, she’s an expert at uncovering the unexpectedly bizarre, surreal hidden side of any topic: death, astronaut training, digestion, and… human-animal conflicts.

Animals do what they do, and many a time, humans want to arrest (and even kill) them for it. And we have tried. For centuries. With wildly uneven results. And with each story of people going to battle—vainly, quixotically—with vandalous seagulls and crows, hungry bears, uninvited elephants, poisonous beans, and home-invading macaques, I think, Holy sh*t!

A government researcher disappears and the protagonist, Nick Randall, is battling reoccurring visions that are somehow intertwined. When assassins attempt to kill him, he is forced to go into hiding. I loved the use of Randall’s son, John, who discovers that he is part of a clandestine psychological project being overseen by the military.

As a father, I loved the use of Randall’s son, who is also searching for someone—his partner—in this fast-paced novel that uses very different locales.

I gravitate toward authors who can mix drama and humor, which is something I strive for in my books, and Kage Baker is one of the best. Known for her wildly inventive and unpredictable plots and sardonic sense of humor, she creates characters the reader really cares about, something else I hope to achieve. The all-seeing, all-knowing Company is headed by the mysterious Dr. Zeus, who has created cyborgs to go back in time to save treasure for clients who will pay big bucks for a lost Van Gogh or missing Hemmingway manuscript. But the cyborgs aren’t heartless robots, and my favorite character, Literature Preserver Lewis, is in love with the Botonist Mendoza, who, of course, loves another. I was totally charmed by Lewis and his unending optimism.

Agent G is like James Bond with cyborgs. It’s an action-driven spy thriller with cyberpunk elements that become stronger in the later books of the series. I love James Bond, the older movies in particular, and I love cyberpunk, so this book grabbed me from the first page. Although it’s more of a technothriller than a classic cyberpunk story I still recommend this book because I think it’s such an interesting and fun read. Definitely worth checking out if you like stories about high-tech spies saving the world!

What makes The Good, the Bad, and the Cyborg unforgettable is the genre mash-up and the story’s poignancy.

It combines two disparate genres--western historical fiction and futuristic sci-fi romance. Mars is being colonized. Tasked with providing law and order are cyborg rangers riding their sentient robotic horses. While cyborgs play critical roles in the settling of Mars, they are considered less than human and are denied the same rights as regular citizens. When they meet their human heroine and fall in love they rediscover their humanity.

So well written and crafted, this story leaves a lasting impression on the reader.

I’ve read all of this series, but this was my favourite. I have a thing for kick-ass heroes who have a vulnerable side. I love characters who can be strong and fight to protect what’s theirs but can also be damaged, flawed, not perfect. I think it makes them far more interesting. Coal hits the mark on this. Big and strong, but seriously damaged. It helps keep me more invested in his story and development. And yes – it does help that this book is hot!