100 Books Like Far North

Deep space can be scary, but I consider deep caves to be much more terrifying.

The Luminous Dead has an eerie mission to the depths of a cave on a distant exoplanet—the worst of both worlds! This book follows a non-regulation diver on a dangerous job shrouded in secrets and the enigmatic, untrustworthy voice in her helmet guiding her through the darkness.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take long for the characters to descend into antagonism and uncertainty about whether the other things lurking in the cave are figments of paranoia or dangerously real. If you like feeling queasy, secondhand claustrophobia, The Luminous Dead is for you.

Mattie is an automaton who has studied alchemy to earn independence from her creator, a man who treats her at times like a machine and at times as a woman, and who refuses to give up his control over her. She innocently takes a job to help the city’s gargoyles, never suspecting it will lead her down a path to dark political intrigue, passion, and the worst betrayal of all.

This book is deeply charming and lovely, a pleasure to read whether it’s a description of the city or a scene of action and feelings — of which there are many; Mattie’s rich interior world and her determination bring this story to life. Despite her relative lack of power she is not a woman to be underestimated.

Cancer was defeated, but at the accidental cost of longevity. Children no longer have time to grow up and are force-educated by viruses. All except for Milena, who is resistant and almost died from them; Milena with secret love in her heart, doesn’t yet know herself; Milena who, over her life, will become determined to set the children free. 

The Child Garden is quite a challenging read with its non-linear structure and worldbuilding, and I admit it won’t be for everyone. But if you are up to trying something unusual you will find it richly rewarding and emotionally devastating (in the best way).

Shannon is part of a clandestine division within the Navy utilizing possible versions of the future to solve crimes. But all timelines lead to Terminus, the end of humanity, and whenever Shannon dips into the future Terminus creeps inevitably nearer.

Leaning more heavily into science fiction is The Gone World, another complex but deeply rewarding novel. The story is grounded by Shannon’s lyrical, mournful perspective and her fierce determination to fight the injustice of a murder no matter where it takes her.

I normally avoid dystopian, but this story doesn’t dwell in misery like so many apocalyptic stories do.

Last Man Standing is more like Andy Weir’s book, The Martian, because it’s about one man’s survival under extreme conditions. A scientist is stranded on a space station after an attack that has killed everyone else onboard. What happened, and why? He doesn’t know, but he’ll do anything to stay alive and find a way to get back to Earth despite a thousand obstacles in his path and little knowledge of spaceflight.

This story can be intense, but the character stays positive and has a lot of heart.

The widening partisan divide between Red and Blue in the United States today gives me nightmares.

I read a lot of history, so I know how closely today’s divisions resemble those before the Civil War. Which is why Omar El Akkad’s American War resonates so deeply with me.

In 2074, four Deep South states secede over the passage of new legislation banning fossil fuels—and a Southerner assassinates the President.

The Red and Blue states are now at war again. And that’s my nightmare brought to life. 

The only non-fiction book on my list, this prescient, chilling work examines the geopolitics of climate change.

Written in 2008 by an ex-naval officer turned journalist, this book works on two levels. First, cogent explanations of the science and interviews with senior military personnel from America and Great Britain. Then, eight scenarios that describe how the world might react as emissions rise.

Scenario One: 2045. The average global temperature is 2.8°C higher than in 1990. Prognosis: Awful.

And the scary thing is that’s pretty close to the trajectory we are currently on.

The Choosing is close to my heart because it highlights how the lowest in society, the outcasts, the unchosen, are chosen by God. The main character’s ongoing battle to see her worth struck a chord with me when I first read it as a teen struggling with my identity.

The overarching theme of this book is that when the world says you are worthless, God says you are priceless. The intriguing plot reeled me in from the first chapter, and the characters were so well fleshed out that I wished I could befriend them in person.

The Choosing is a beautifully crafted YA Christian dystopia, and finishing the book made me feel like I was saying goodbye to family.

Press Enter to Continue is incredible on every level. The art is beautiful, with a technicolor palette and skillful drawing that belies the corporate horror in the narratives. We see humiliating job interviews, vampiric computer viruses, and cosmic labor camps that feel a little too close for comfort in our online world. It’s a collection of short stories told with a deadpan minimalism that makes the reader think, sweat, and maybe put their phone away for a while.

In a list of dystopian futures, Mackintosh’s book sits a little unsurely. It’s a dreamy, otherworldly novel, and we’re never quite sure when or where it’s taking place. Three sisters live in isolation with their parents, avoiding an outside world ravaged by contagion – but is the threat real or imagined?

I love this book for its strangeness: it’s an uncanny fairy tale, partly set in some kind of decrepit Victorian seaside retreat for lady hysterics, partly set in the woods where wolves (or men) may prowl.

Mackintosh builds layered dystopias, where both the diseased, brutal world of male violence and the claustrophobic, emotionally manipulative "care" of home and family threaten the sisters’ security. This hazy fever-dream of a book stayed with me for a long time after I finished it.