Books like Ilium — picked by fans

I’m a fan of Dune because it feels larger than science fiction and more enduring than almost any genre label can contain.

I admire the depth of Frank Herbert’s worldbuilding, the strength of his prose, and the narrative weight carried by his characters and ideas. I return to books like this because they helped define what speculative fiction could become.

I also value Dune as a work of its own time. I do not want foundational novels rewritten to imitate modern language or contemporary storytelling habits. I want them preserved, studied, and experienced as they were written. To me, the best way to keep a genre alive is not to alter its past, but to let new authors build upon it with voices of their own.

This was one of the first books that showed me fantasy could be bold and heretical.

The world was so rich—daemons, armored bears, oppressive religions—and Lyra felt like a character who’d been waiting to burst off the page for centuries. It’s a coming-of-age tale wrapped in cosmic questions and rebellion, and it sparked something in me that’s never gone out.

I lost sleep listening to this book because the narrative momentum is an absolute freight train.

Darrow's journey of infiltrating the Institute under an assumed identity pulled me in instantly, and his relentless grief and fury felt remarkably grounded. I loved the ruthless tactical games, the shifting house alliances, and the constant threat of betrayal around every corner.

Pierce Brown created a brutal pressure cooker where survival requires intellect as much as martial prowess. It remains one of my favorite stories about a protagonist driven by vengeance against an oppressive empire.

I love this book because although it seems at a casual glance to be written in the mold of 50s and 60s science fiction, with earthmen fighting bug-eyed aliens, it’s, in fact, a profound exploration of the morality of war, of chances, lost and motives misunderstood and of the ruthless use of children as combatants.

The training regimen of the children is gripping, as is the climactic space battle, but it’s the ending of the novel that gives the story its deep spiritual resonance.

For someone who’s read every book in the Hornblower and Aubrey-Maturin series, it’s hard to find an age-of-sail book that has anything truly new to add.

Or so I thought until I picked up this book. It asks the question, what if Jack Aubrey could have sailed a wooden frigate to a Barsoomian version of Mars? The obvious answer, of course (and the one in this book) is that Britain would have extracted every plank of Marswood, ounce of Marsspice, and bag of Marstatoes it could get its imperialistic little hands on.

That’s Arabella’s world, where cannons boom in the interplanetary air currents, and spaceships are driven by sail power. As a fan of both sea stories and space operas, I’m there for it.

This book made a deep impact on me when I first read it decades ago and it influenced me in the way I try to understand and write history to this day. I’d already read The Odyssey when I encountered Finley’s book, but Finley made me believe in a world that became real despite being imaginary. The World of Odysseus is an amalgam of the half-remembered world in which it is set – the twelfth century BC – and of the world in which Homer was composing – the eighth century BC – and of the big gap in between the two, known as the Dark Ages.

It’s a completely artificial world but it’s wholly convincing and coherent – a world, incidentally, dominated by a large cast of formidable women. Finley provides by far the best introduction to it, and he writes in an engaging, unpedantic, highly accessible, and informative… show more.

I recommend this book because it was one of the first books that made me feel like the world was bigger than anything I’d known.

When I read it, I remember feeling that rush, that sense of being lifted out of my own life and dropped into a place where courage mattered, and strange new landscapes waited around every corner. It wasn’t just adventure; it was escape, wonder, possibility. 

Readers who love getting lost in another world will understand that feeling immediately. And it fits my theme because it reminds me that stepping into the unknown, whether on Mars or in an ancient story, can change the way you see everything.

If this book were episodes of Friends, it would include The One Where They Landed On Mars Before the Internet Was Invented, The One Where They Mixed Up English and Metric Units, The One Where A Lander Became A Crasher, and The One Where Everyone Fell In Love with Cute Robots.

Conway is the official JPL historian, so he has unprecedented access to the archives and the people behind NASA’s ongoing quest for Mars, and he lays each mission out with its political stakes and highs and lows in painstaking and rich detail. Reading this book reminds me that exploration is just as much about the people as it is about the machines.

Zubrin’s book proposes a tantalizing what-if. Steve Squyres’ Roving Mars presents readers with an exciting and suspenseful blow-by-blow account of an awesome thing that actually happened: the successful landing on Mars of the rovers Spirit and Opportunity, and the jaw-dropping success of those lovable little robotic beetles. It was hoped that the rovers might function for as long as 90 days. Opportunity performed for 15 years. (Spirit, that slacker, phoned it in for only 6 years.) Squyres, an astronomer, was the principal investigator for the mission, and he proves to be an enormously appealing guide: enthusiastic, excitable, grateful, humble. One of the many likable things about this book is that Squyres lets us see how scientists in charge of a years-long multimillion-dollar one-shot mission with a high chance of failure are every bit as superstitious as village peasants: Squyres makes sure to wear his tattered good-luck jeans to every… show more.

The Lady Astronaut of Mars takes place in a science fictional world, but like all the best sci-fi, it knows to keep its focus on its characters. There are no hour-long passages about future technologies or scientific theory. Instead it uses its setting to tell a human story about the missed opportunities in life and about growing old. Second chances are rare, and sometimes the decision about what to do isn’t so clear, but The Lady Astronaut of Mars reminded me that more often than not, experiences are worth having.