100 Books Like Go, Mutants!

It’s hard to beat Scalzi for nailing the execution of a high concept.

Redshirts could have so easily been nothing but a gimmick, but Scalzi really gets into the guts of the horror and humor of being a character written for the sole purpose of dying. I picked up the book with a cynical eye, expecting to hate it, but it drew me in.

Scalzi went so much further with the concept, shined a light on every corner of the idea, that he managed to create a deconstruction and reconstruction of the same trope at the same time. 

Liking Terry Pratchett is a bit like liking pizza: not terribly remarkable.

Pratchett is a master storyteller who commands not only tropes but the idea behind them with such skill that I can read one of his books and never realize I’m getting the most profound lesson of my life. I could have recommended any of his books, and more to the point, any of his City Watch books, but I single out this particular book for a reason. I’m a humanist, like Pratchett, and this book explores his humanism most effectively.

And it’s also an amazing mystery and incredible comedy. 

Like a lot of folks, I found out about this book when the movie version came out, Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

The world-building in the movie was so compelling and unique that I decided to pick up the book. And I’m so glad that I did. The plot in the book is much more complicated, and the social satire is even sharper. One of my all-time favorite noir mysteries.

I’m cheating a little with this one since this is technically three books but go with me. Slaves of the Volcano God, Bride of the Slime Monster, and Revenge of the Fluffy Bunnies are some of those series that used to be thick on the ground but now are harder to find.

They’re adventure novels that play with the tropes of B-movies, and not only are they hilarious, but they made a young Justin like B-movies more. Playing with tropes can get exhausting, but when it’s done with genuine love, as it is here, it makes for an airy joy of a series.

Shrek! was a book before it was ever a wildly successful film franchise, but the book bears almost no resemblance to the movies.

Yes, William Steig’s ogre is both vile and reviled, and he has a donkey for a friend, but the story itself is very straightforward, detailing Shrek’s rampage across the countryside on his way to meet a “stunningly ugly princess” with whom he can live “horribly ever after.”

Steig had been a celebrated New Yorker cartoonist for almost four decades when he produced his first children’s book in 1968. He wrote and drew Shrek! when he was in his early 80s. He breaks the cardinal rule of using simple language, but makes up for it with fun-to-read-aloud choices in vocabulary and sentence structure, such as “The irascible dragon was preparing to separate Shrek from his noggin.”

There is nothing more fun than a rag-tag group of kids living in a tree house and battling monsters, zombies, and whatever else bleeds into their dimension.

Max Brallier does an amazing job of tapping into a middle grader’s pituitary. What he squeezes out is a thrilling and hilarious roller-coaster of an adventure. Just writing this makes me want to take the ride all over again. And I didn’t even mention the art yet either.

Douglas Holgate draws monsters so cool, that they are often drool inducing. Seriously. Do a Google search if you don’t believe me.

The voice of the main character Will Tweedy pulled me right in. I was drawn into the world of rural Georgia in the turn of the century as if it was yesterday. I could see, smell, taste, and feel everything Olive Ann Burns described. The main character brought me along on his journey in a Huck Finn sort of way that made me feel like his best buddy. 

Is there any family more dysfunctional than the Greek gods? In this modern-day saga, author Stacey Swann skillfully reimagines our favorite gods as regular people caught up in the very human drama of lust, jealousy, secrets, and even murder. The author slyly crafts multiple myth-inspired vignettes, then fits them together like puzzle pieces. The central conflict is a clever spin on Aphrodite’s affair with her ho-hum hubby Hephaestus’s fiery brother Ares (the unholy union that created Cupid!). What I love most about Swann’s storytelling is her snappy dialogue – these characters don’t pull any punches! Even though we don’t really want to root for them, we can’t help ourselves. Why? Maybe they remind us of ourselves.

One of my favorite characters in this middle-grade mystery has always been Chris Theodorakis, the teen boy with an unnamed neurological condition that confines him to a wheelchair and, for the most part, to his house.

Even if he can’t leave home—and even if people often look away from him when he does—Chris plays a key role in solving the mystery at the heart of the book by being a keen observer of everything that passes in front of his window. I love how this novel depicts Chris’s inner world to young readers, including his awareness of how his condition affects others’ perceptions.

More importantly, it shows how much people with disabilities and illnesses still have to offer. 

You're drawing, you're painting, you're doing whatever you do – you're making things that weren't there before. You're creating images, you're creating visual stories. Sometimes creation is a thrill, and sometimes it's a bizarre disorienting struggle. Nobody expresses the creative life quite like Mr.Earbrass (and Edward Gorey). Is it a how-to book? No. Is it a how-not-to book? It's not really that either. It's a story about an eccentric novelist crafting his latest book. I give this weird little storybook as a gift to artist and writer friends all the time. Everyone I've given it to just raves about it.