100 Books Like Original Sins

Who doesn’t like ghost stories? especially when there’s an occult detective eager to solve the case. That is what Carnacki, The Ghost-Finder, presented to me.

What I loved about the short stories is that Thomas Carnacki investigates the mysteries of the supernatural, seeking to solve them with his skillset. Sometimes, the cases are just pranks by humans, others by small spirits, and even some with malevolent forces.

This collection of supernatural dark fantasy sparked my imagination. Even to the point of inspiring me to create my own occult detective character.

Silence is much more cerebral than Carnacki, more prone to solve his mysteries from the comfort of his armchair over a pipe of tobacco. But don't let the leisurely pace fool you; Blackwood brings the chills like few others can, and you might find yourself looking over your shoulder more than once, or even getting up to put a stronger light on. If creeping dread is your thing, Blackwood's your man for it.

Silver John, a balladeer with a silver-stringed guitar, crisscrosses rural USA encountering all manner of supernatural entities, and does it with a song in his heart. There's a deep love of ancient folklore that shines through in this wonderful collection. It's far removed from Carnacki or Silence's cozy sitting rooms and libraries, but every bit as tied to a desire to get to the root of ancient mysteries. There's an almost Bradburyesque sense of wonder in these tales that lifts you up and carries you alongside John on his travels.

Lumley is steeped in both the occult detective and the Lovecraftian tradition, and it shows most clearly in this set of pulpy occult detective stories featuring his cerebral-yet-tough Titus Crow, and involving wild flights of fancy in time and space that also arguably show some influence from Doctor Who. We get a lovely creepy origin story here, and several vignettes, but the highlight is the longer tale of the mysteries of the wyrm, and festering, crawling things in an ancient manor house and its library. It fairly oozes supernatural evil and is one of my favorite things.

Deadpool is superhero comics', and perhaps literature in general’s, most consistently challenging fictional engagement with cancer. Deadpool’s healing factor prevents his cancer from ever being cured, which traps him in a never-ending cycle of remission and relapse.

Unlike a superhero who responds to a bodily transformation by self-sacrificingly upholding the status quo, Deadpool is a mercenary and anti-hero. In this collection, writer Joe Kelly creates much of the narrative infrastructure that eventually made the character one of Marvel’s most popular.

Kelly also crafts a story where Deadpool is offered a heroic transformation that—through personal weakness, history, bad luck, and supervillainous interference—tragically fails. This book establishes the template for Deadpool stories and digs into Deadpool’s cancer for the first time.

This is the John Constantine series. I am constantly enthralled with the nit and grit of this series.

There are a great deal of historical and biblical references in this series as well as their own twists. I found when writing my book that this was the same feeling and style I wanted. I didn’t want a world that was fluffy and beautiful but I wanted to show a world tortured and used as a battleground for angels and demons.

I couldn’t recommend this series more. The magic in this series is power from supernatural being. It's definitely the closest form of magic we could gain for ourselves as we learn the rules of our dominion over the earth.

This book brings the format of a graphic novel to the subject of women's resistance during enslavement and the trans-Altantic slave trade—and the result is fresh and compelling. As a historian myself, I appreciated the interwtined narratives of Hall's own research quest as a historian following the documentary record—and her reconstruction of the extraordinary revolt of the women held captive in 1772 on the slave-ship Unity. Both the search for truth and the dramatic uprising are conveyed with great skill and emotional power. The account of the Unity revolt calls attention to what we know, how we know it, and what we don't know. But Hall refuses to stop there. Instead, carefully marking speculation as such, Hall offers a fascinating, well-informed, effort to imagine a fuller account of what might have actually happened. We are left with a powerful sense of why this history matters two and a half… show more.

The place you least expect for a hero to turn up is the lunchroom and that’s exactly what we get here. In this issue of a long-running series Lunch Lady and Betty, her assistant, investigate the strange case of a missing teacher, a creepy substitute, and how this all connects with the Teacher of the Year award. Scenes in the story revolve around the school which will make it relatable to school-going readers. Kids will have a new respect for people around them as they identify who could potentially be a hero in their own small way. 

Like Hermione, Courtney comes from a non-magical background and discovers her own magical heritage. Her stubborn curiosity propels her into a fantastical world operating under our own. She also has a sense of justice and would deffo have allied with Hermione in S.P.E.W. Unlike Hermione, Courtney isn’t studious or diligent. She’s a bit of a slacker and a grump. What I love about this series is the prickly heroine and the treatment of the fantastical world. Like the Wizarding World, the fantastical worldbuilding in this series is built on familiar Western fantasy creatures and tropes. What’s special about it is the stylish Goth-chic interpretation through the author/artist’s artwork and the examination of the ethical conundrums latent in fantasy since fantasy is often about power.

Ideally, the style of art in a graphic novel should reflect the story being told. Yvain does a beautiful job of capturing this Arthurian myth set in the 12th century with drawings that feel appropriately medieval while the sketchy and gestural line art keep it from feeling heavy. I’m a bit obsessed with the idea of the style matching the story—I developed a whole new style and learned watercolor for The Great Gatsby—which is probably why I appreciate it so much in Yvain.