66 Books Like Emperor Mollusk Versus the Sinister Brain

Truly a book for the ages, how could I not recommend this? It is THE iconic book about a constructed being and his consequent travails.

Made by Victor Frankenstein from all sorts of collected detritus, when the monster opens his “yellow, watery eyes,” the scientist flees from him and never looks back. The monster is left to negotiate the world on his own, but much like a newborn baby, he is ignorant and unequipped to do so.

I love how, unlike the popular concept of the monster, he is, in fact, a vegetarian, and at the start, very vulnerable and peaceful. He learns to read by sitting outside a cottage where he can hear the cottagers teaching a foreigner to read.

I wrote a whole novel about him, A Monster’s Notes, which transports him into the 21st century.

I really connected with evil genius Doctor Impossible and his whacky world of superheroes. In grade and high school, I felt like I was the one who was overlooked, which was often the good days; getting noticed generally meant I was being made fun of and bullied. But to take revenge, to show my plebeian classmates the (imagined) might that lay within me, how glorious that would be! Hahaha! Evil laugh aside, as Doctor Impossible does just that, I also enjoyed his vulnerable needs, longings, and regrets. And the lives of the heroes are not all they are cracked up to be. While not as stark (or violent) as The Boys, Grossman also exposes the toll superhero biology can take on the mind and body. A fun and poignant read.

Given my belief that Thanos had a point (what science-math-oriented person can’t tremble at the algorithm of over-population?), it’s no surprise I enjoyed an anthology of different takes on mad scientists and what drives them. I got my fix of humorously boastful ego-maniacs, such as Professor Incognito’s itemized “apology” to his girlfriend (with attempted sincerity because of their couple’s therapist). And the variety of these tales exposed me to a bevy of villainy, from a psychologist who uses the “soft” sciences to unleash the insanity within stable scientists because “everyone deserves the opportunity to go mad” to a side-hustling villainy coach whose budget forces her to choose between new tech plating or weapons-grade plutonium. What’s a would-be world conqueror to do? Relatable.

I read this one when I was very young, too. Around eight or nine, I think. I grew up in a reading household, and my parents never suggested a book was too old for me. This one is Stevenson at his creepiest, scariest best.

The idea that a person could completely change their personality and turn into a homicidal manic just by drinking a potion often invaded my dreams. If I were in a wicked mood, I’d read excerpts to my brother, who was about four at the time. Hey, why should I be the only one afraid to go to sleep? Ah, happy days.

In Claiming T-Mo, Australian-African writer Eugen Bacon re-invents and shatters all the familiar codes of the magical sci-fi genre. A novel about women, magic, fate, and freedom, Claiming T-Mo is also a deep reflection on motherhood, love, masculinity, and identities. As the different female narrators share their views and feelings about T-Mo, the elusive central character, more questions about filiation and heritage unroll, making the reader a part of the quest. I love Eugen Bacon because she is an incredibly versatile talent, who turns everything she writes about into pure gold. 

This is, in my humble view, the best science fiction novel ever written. I have read it no less than ten times so far and intend to keep rereading it. What nowadays seems incredible is that it was written back in 1961, when most science fiction was still in its age of innocence, full of naïve assumptions about extraterrestrials and their malevolent ambitions.

It will be many years before the first ideas of benevolent aliens appear and even more before we fully realize Lem's wisdom from Solaris: there isn't going to be any First Contact because Others are neither bad nor good, but indifferent, as it is the planetary intelligent ocean on Solaris. We aren't still mature enough even for contacts with ourselves, let alone Others.

This sci-fi adventure seems insane when you read the premise – a cowboy, a hitman, and an alien AI armor? Somehow, this manages to actually work, and becomes a thrilling adventure, with a pretty unique romance and fun world-building. It’s just one of those books you need to read to believe.

I am not frightened by Cthulhu, the tentacled monsters waiting in the depths of outer space or the ocean. I am mesmerized by them. Lovecraft, often labeled a horror writer, is one of the greatest literary fantasists. His imagination is boundless, and he is as adept at describing strange new environments as he is at evoking a sense of cosmic dread.

This classic novel combines Lovecraft’s signature monsters with an incredible dreamlike atmosphere that grips you and does not let you go. When you stand at the summit of the Mountains of Madness and glimpse what lies on the other side, you are torn between fear and fascination. For me, at least, fascination always wins.   

The first known object from interstellar space, ʻOumuamua, plunged through the solar system and headed out again in 2017. It was seen by telescopes for just 17 days, enough to tell that it wasn’t as the saying goes, a bird, a plane, or Superman. Perhaps it was a space vehicle or other artifact from distant aliens, an older and superior civilization than ours. At least that’s what the brilliant Harvard astrophysicist Avi Loeb suggests. I think his theory is soundly based on the limited observational data, but that doesn’t make it true, and other astronomers won’t touch aliens with a ten-foot telescope. They offer alternative explanations none of which clearly fit the data but that smack less of science fiction. Inquiring minds should read the book and decide for themselves.

When I finished this book, I was a little heartbroken because I didn’t want to leave that crew.

I love how Chambers builds a world that doesn’t put heroes on a pedestal—a world full of ordinary, flawed people trying to understand one another while doing extraordinary work in an uncaring universe.

It taught me about quiet courage, the kind that doesn’t need destiny to feel meaningful. It made me believe again that kindness and curiosity can be forms of rebellion.

I come back to the Wayfarer whenever I need reminding that connection, not perfection, is what makes us human.