99 Books Like Killer Bodies

This is the first book in the Skelfs series by Doug Johnstone. A Dark Matter introduces us to Dorothy, Jenny, and Hannah, three generations of women who run a funeral home and a private investigator business in Edinburgh. Each chapter is from the perspective of one of the three central characters and gives the reader a different take on what is happening. The crime elements of the story keep you guessing and make you want to read on, however these are interspersed with moments of introspection from the characters who meditate on issues such as science versus faith and the different ways people deal with grief. It is both uplifting and grim all at the same time as well as being darkly humorous, and it takes you to the parts of Edinburgh that the tourists don’t go to.

Skagboys is the prequel to Trainspotting. Its colourful cast of characters hails from the Edinburgh port suburb of Leith. The book is set in the 1980s against a backdrop of HIV, Thatcherism, and the rise of dance music. The extensive employment of Scottish vernacular makes traversing this tome (548 pages) challenging but rewarding.

I was mesmerised by the lurid descriptions, dark humour, diverse prose, and the memorable, amoral characters. Skagboys will appeal to all fans of darkly humorous fiction and transgressive fiction.

None of Guthrie’s characters are anyone you want to get on the wrong side of. Pearce, an ex-con and Edinburgh hard man, may be his most dangerous creation. Guthrie’s black humor is fully displayed in this novel of a man out for blood and bound to get it in ever more inventive ways.

The Scottish writer Guthrie is in danger of falling into obscurity, but several of his other evangelists and I are intent on not letting that happen. This book is a good place to start with his work; if you like it, you will have a world of dark pleasures waiting in his other books.

Atkinson is a Scottish author who blends the murder mystery genre with superb writing. The result is startling, and not quite like anything we’ve seen before. As a murder mystery, this novel has it all. Set in Edinburgh, it’s rich with suspense, wild plot twists, a cast of truly memorable and unruly characters who are all, mostly unbeknownst to them, in an elaborate dance with one another. Atkinson tantalizes us with wicked secrets until the very last page. Darkly comic humor permeates throughout, and as we aficionados of dark humor know, it is the flip side of deep empathy for poor struggling, suffering humanity. Her rendering of a man dying from a blow to the head, told from the point of view of the victim in the last seconds of his life, could not have been written better by James Joyce himself.

I grew up in rural Ireland, so not exactly the gritty urban Scotland of Welsh’s novel, but the first thing that struck me about the book was its savage, semi-feral, intensely real Scottish dialect. I’d never seen anything quite like it in print.

The prose feels almost illegal, a ne’er-do-well that has simply decided to break into the publishing house and force its way onto the page without anyone’s permission. I didn’t consciously plan to steal this technique for my own novel, but how could I not endorse it?

Welsh has written more explicitly psychedelic works, but this book remains for me his masterwork, underscoring how, in many ways, his protagonist Renton’s life is at its weirdest when he tries to get sober.  

Keller is a nice guy; everyone likes him. His only fault is he kills people for money. He is, by definition, a serial killer, but for him, it’s all business. Yes, he kills people, but for him, no big deal, just making a living.

Most of the book is about everything else in his life, his apartment, his girlfriend, and going to an art show. His stamp collection, etc. It’s like a look behind the curtain. Fascinating! 

I liked his cute conversations with his boss lady too. Funny.

This is the dirty realist poet, Charles Bukowski's, last novel and is filled with intriguing code and name-dropping of people he knew and was influenced by. As well as being as poetic as hell. Pulp also gives a glimpse of what it might have been like if Bukowski had lived on and ventured fully into crime fiction or pulp noir.

I love the book’s surface-level simplicity to draw you into its world. However, it then subversively lets bigger themes creep in: including surrealism and spiritualism, as the author faces his own death. All this with Bukowski’s deftly poetic touches.

This showed me how semi-autobiographical elements can fuse and influence fiction and vice versa. And, that it doesn't have to be hard to absorb or distract from the story. By acknowledging layers in writing which are there for those who want to peel back and discover them. And when they don’t,… show more.

The Big Book of Hell is the holy grail of dark humor, packaged perfectly in a comic format. Growing up as a sarcastic kid from Brooklyn, this was the first humor book I read that I felt was aimed directly at my sensibilities. It has a very unique “substance-over-style” aesthetic that is striking and somehow managed to become widely identifiable. It dances around subjects, poking fun at the absurdities of the world it was written in. It really showed me that you don’t need to be a conventionally great artist to publish comics and that there is a market for dark humor comics. The book, which reads almost like a variety show, opened my eyes to ways to play with structure of an individual comic and a whole book.

I never met Alex Finley, but we worked for some of the same people, and her book triggered a flood of memories for me. Black humor thrives in counterterrorism work—partly because laughing is a more acceptable way to release tension in the workplace than crying or punching tech support.

This is broad satire but with a hefty dose of authenticity. Anyone who has worked in a bureaucracy will laugh at this novel, but if you’ve worked in an intelligence bureaucracy, you’ll be snorting coffee from your nose.

Imagine coming back from the dead only to realize the world doesn't want you: You move in with parents who are disgusted by you, random strangers on the street throw food or pull mean jokes on you and your friends, and being caught out past your curfew sends you to the dog pound. That's the life that Andy Warner reanimates into after a fatal accident. It's not all bad, though. At least he's got some friends at the Undead Anonymous support group, including the dead-sexy Rita, and Ray, a guy whose “venison” seems to come with some miraculous healing abilities. This is a darkly comedic book filled with a colorful cast, and you can't help but delight in the tragic spiral of the characters as they become increasingly inhuman. After all, can you blame them?