Books like Nightwatch on the Hinterlands — picked by fans

I love the hooky concept at this book’s heart: Mahit Dzmare is the new Lsel ambassador sent to the heart of the enormous Teixcalaanli galactic empire to maintain her tiny space station’s independence; but on arrival, she discovers her predecessor was murdered.

Now, she must not only act the diplomat, but she must also solve the murder without offending the very empire that at any moment could swallow her people whole.

The intricate-but-lightly-done world-building further helps bring this book to stunning life as Mahit walks a wobbly tightrope between asking difficult questions and preventing her very dangerous hosts from taking offence even as the politics take a dark turn, which threatens her life and everything she holds dear.

I love a good space opera, and John Scalzi’s second to none in that department. In some ways, this book (and the two that follow it in The Interdependency series) remind me of the original Foundation, as an immense space empire under a new and untried leader struggles to come to terms with an imminent catastrophe that could bring it to its knees. I personally found the foul-mouthed and irreverent Lady Kiva Lagos a particular delight, as a force of nature that bulls her way through any obstacle. 

Okay, it’s the second book in the tremendously popular series The Expanse (perhaps you’ve heard of this little series turned TV show), but it’s also my favorite. That’s because Corey ramps up the intrigue as Mars, Earth, and the Belt find themselves enmeshed in an open war that has some decidedly murky underpinnings. This volume also introduces two of the series' best and most memorable characters: Martian marine Bobbie Draper and savvy Earth politician Chrisjen Avasarala. The book kicks off with a bang, and doesn’t let up, concluding with perhaps one of the most page-turning action sequences I’ve ever read.

This is probably my favorite book of all time, from my favorite series of all time, The Vorkosigan Saga. Miles Vorkosigan, spy and accidental leader of a mercenary fleet, comes face to face with his mortality when he’s injured during a mission. As he recovers, he has to rebuild his life and his identity and find a new purpose in an empire that prizes warriors—a long-running challenge for this diminutive disabled hero. Meanwhile, one of his mentors, spymaster Simon Illyan, is dealing with a threat that could not only unravel his own life but decades’ worth of the Empire’s secrets. It’s funny, tense, and touching all at turns; I can’t think of that many sci-fi adventures that will have you laughing and crying. 

This lesser-known gem was my favorite book of 2019. You take a World War II-style submarine war but throw in horrifying new supernatural powers, and then pitch it against Cthulu-style interdimensional monsters and you start to have an idea of the gloriously-insane trajectory of this book. That may sound over-the-top at a glance, but I promise this is a grounded read that’s flush with complex interweaving relationships, and an unrelenting pace that constantly throws new, bigger dangers at the characters before they’ve had a chance to catch their breath. This book is far better than it has any right to be.

This book largely takes place over a three-day battle. It showcases the stupidity of war, the cowardice, the luck, the incompetence, and yes, sometimes even the breathtaking courage.

As you’d expect from Abercrombie–the so-called Lord of Grimdark–the ‘heroes’ are no such thing, but rather, flawed and broken individuals who go to war out of obligation or ambition or because they know no other way of life.

Joe Abercrombie writes superb action scenes. Visceral, urgent, bloody. He’s also particularly cruel to his characters. I’m not sure if he’s picking on me particularly or if it’s just the dark alchemy of his literary soul that makes him such a popular author, but he’s always a bit of a bastard to the characters I like the most.

I’ve read Bloody Murder more times than any other non-fiction book. The first edition made a huge impression on me. Symons introduced me to countless fascinating authors and books (many of them obscure) which I’d never heard of and which have given me endless reading pleasure. Symons’ opinions were, and remain, controversial, and his disdain for ‘humdrum’ writing from the ‘Golden Age’ between the wars has attracted much criticism, some of it sensible, some of it over-the-top. His belief that the ‘detective story’ had metamorphosed into the ‘crime novel’ was eloquently argued, but I think mistaken. Today’s readers have just as much of an appetite for an entertaining, well-crafted puzzle as ever. But never mind the flaws; this elegantly written book remains as influential as it is indispensable.

I never thought I’d cheer for a crippled torturer, but somehow Abercrombie makes me do it.

The characters in The Blade Itself feel raw and jagged, like real people rather than fantasy archetypes. What I loved most was how no one is truly heroic—everyone’s broken, desperate, or scheming, yet still magnetic. The dialogue crackles with wit, and the shifting perspectives kept me hooked.

It’s grimdark, yes, but never bleak for the sake of it. Instead, it reveals how ugly and fascinating people can be when survival and ambition collide.

Immediately following the events of Gideon the Ninth, the reader is thrust into the wreckage of Harrow just as lost as she is, both reader and character engaged in a mind-bending fight to unravel the mystery of who she is now and what she will become.

This is a sequel, and can’t be read without first reading Gideon the Ninth. And it is impossible to fully articulate this book’s place on this list without robbing the reader of the experience found in Harrow’s self-discovery. But I had to include it anyway; this book made me crazy (positive), it made me despair (as in I will never write something this cool), and it made me reflect on all the ways that queer people compartmentalize ourselves, the ways we perform normativity and queerness, and how mind-bending it can be when we try to sort the pieces of ourselves out into… show more.

Rarely do I find a sequel as good as the first book. 

When clever ideas from the first book peter out, sequels lose their freshness and sense of wonder, turning them into stale, unremarkable remakes. Then, my fandom for the author diminishes as well. Despite my enthusiastic admiration of Sanborn’s creative prowess, I couldn’t finish the Mistborn sequel for that very reason.

Words of Radiance worldbuilding is a notable exception. It keeps digging deeper and grows more and more complex.  Similarly, the characters continue to evolve.

For me, character growth and worldbuilding drive a story more than any other factors. Thus, the plot resolution to Words of Radiance was surprisingly satisfying precisely because of this strong foundation.