Books like Killer, Come Back To Me — picked by fans

It seemed to take me forever to read The Magus, much longer than it took me to read other books by Fowles, even though it's a more exciting novel than any other he wrote. For most of the book's length I felt that the writing was excellent, the story was very good, but the tone of the narrator, Nicholas Urfe, had dated badly. I found the long extracts when Conchis was talking about his past to be vastly more engaging than anything Nicholas had to say. But Nicholas grew more tolerable in the last third of the novel, especially when the action speeded up and he was put on trial by Conchis and his cohorts. The cascading deceptions became stupendous at that juncture, one deceit after another, what we thought we knew flipped suddenly into something new, and so on. Nothing was certain anymore, it is really quite disorienting stuff,… show more.

One of the best novels I have ever read. This doesn't mean it was enticing all the way through, but it was always compelling. In other words, it wasn't the beauty that kept me going but the rhythmic insistence. It is a novel of two equal halves. It's the second half that elevates the book for me. The first part consists of the memoirs of the title character, Molloy, and his abortive journey from a town to the sea in search of his mother. The second half consists of the search by a private investigator, Jacques Moran, for Molloy. He is given his instructions by a fellow employee of a shadowy organisation. His task seems meaningless and from the very beginning it proves to be unfeasible, but in the attempt Moran finds Molloy, in a sense, by changing into a new and more bitter edition of him. What astounds me… show more.

This book tells a strong story about censorship and has perhaps a "light" dystopian feel.

I liked this book because Bradbury’s characters are well drawn and, like Orwell, he creates a strong story. It reminded me of past events in the 30’s. A fireman, following orders to confiscate and destroy books because the authority does not want people to develop constructive thinking. Gradually turning against his boss, the fireman kills his boss and joins a group of people who memorise books and store content for the future.

I found this a thought-provoking story and hope that, considering the censorship laws we have today at home and in countries like Russia and Iran, this is one story that does not come true.

I love this book for its poetic, dreamlike quality. Bradbury’s writing pulled me in and didn’t let go, painting a picture of Mars that was both beautiful and tragic. As a pre-teen and a teen, in my imagination, I had red dust stuck to my feet, and I was there with the characters. What captivated me was the way the stories felt timeless—each one was like a snapshot of a moment layered with meaning.

I felt like I wasn’t just reading a book about colonizing Mars; I was exploring humanity’s deepest fears, hopes, and regrets. We have companies only today working on getting to Mars, I feel so upset that I know I will likely never set foot on those dusty red shores, but I am thrilled to know it may still happen for others.

Bradbury’s work made me think about the consequences of exploration—how, in our quest to conquer… show more.

Bradbury’s writing is vividly descriptive, he makes you see things as you read (in my case I listened). His set up of good vs. evil was masterful. The evil described is the sort that sends shivers down your spine but isn’t overly-descriptive nor revels in any gore. Ultimately good triumphs, but not without pain and hard lessons learned along the way.

I first read Orwell’s dystopian nightmare as a teenager and have gone back to it several times since.

Apparently, it is such a brilliant description of life under totalitarianism that, during the communist era, some Eastern Europeans refused to believe that an inhabitant of a democratic country could have written such a book. 

Even today, I find the book very relevant, as Orwell develops themes of truth, propaganda, doublethink, and the misuse of language that you can find in Homage to Catalonia, written a decade earlier. And the ubiquitous and intrusive telescreen has a parallel in our age of surveillance capitalism and the way the Chinese authorities are using information technology to cement their rule.

A mix of coming of age in the first half of the twentieth century, and Bradbury’s peculiar brand of very earthly oddness and sci-fi strangeness, Dandelion Wine is full of all sorts of magic. It reminds you of what it is to be a small human again, when everything seems possible, and aliens and monsters are as likely (and as important) as long summer days spent outside, barefoot and sunburnt and a little feral. Even when we don’t recognise the details of the childhood described, we remember the feeling, and it reawakens a sense of wonder that’s incredibly precious.

Not everything that seems harmful does us harm, and not everything that seems good does us good.

I love books that make me reconsider the world I live in, and although Brave New World was published in 1932, its use of empty entertainment, sex, drugs, and medicated happiness as instruments of social control feels startlingly contemporary.

In dystopias built around punishment, power forces people to obey; here, pleasure makes them willing. The Romans already understood this through panem et circenses, and I see the same mechanism around us today. We fail to notice the cage because we are too busy seeking it out and locking ourselves inside.

This book broadened my perspective and taught me to look at apparent comforts with more suspicious eyes.

I‘ve always been fascinated by the dividing line between human and monster. Because, what is a monster?

I know, this kind of question will usually get a quick answer, but I have been thinking about this particular question for quite some time now. I am Legend revolves around this question, and I love it for that. I also love it for the somewhat unexpected twist in the end, and that one can be interpreted as an answer.

Anyway, for me, this book got me thinking about morale and ethics and other stuff. I just like it when a book gets me to that point where I think: wait a moment, but what if…?

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.