100 Books Like Oathbringer

The Bloodwrath is basically Berserkergang, not possession, right? It affects badgers almost exclusively. What a bummer to be a badger and bear a burden that no one else has!

But it’s a bit more like possession in this book. Lady Cregga has the Bloodwrath more strongly than anyone has ever observed before; her personality seems to reflect this, as she’s impatient, brusque, and aggressive (even for a badger). She’s wounded and loses her sight, and the Bloodwrath goes away.

Even though her personality appears to be tied up with her madness, the Bloodwrath must be something external, since it can leave her without destroying her. Is it an inborn quality or an effect brought about by her personal choices, an appetite that can be satiated, or something else?

The brand of possession is fairly standard: a Drakhaoul possesses a man, enabling him to transform into a dragon—but the man must replenish his strength vampirically.

I like the interplay of personal responsibility and victimization, the use of supernatural powers to protect one’s friends at the cost of innocent suffering.

The Drakhaoul has a name and personality; it’s definitely a discrete being, but it’s also a part of the hero. But then the hero successfully exorcises his demon. But the demon’s memories are left behind, and the hero starts to wonder if he’s going mad.

The demon’s absence, not its presence, drives the hero to madness and despair (even though he hates the demon). The hero simultaneously hates and longs for a dark power, which is and is not uniquely his.

You’re soon going to notice that I like clever variations on a common theme.

This book is a really fun mishmash of possible ways for possession to happen: a person can be possessed by a friendly ghost, a malevolent demon—or both at once! The heroine travels back in time (unusual for fantasy) and possesses the ghost when she was still alive. Two good guys can occupy the same body without surrendering their autonomy; but one can also take over when the other’s strength fails.

I also like the interweaving of the protagonist’s adventures in both the past and the present with chapters from a thousand-year-old journal. The temporal complexity works well with the way the characters fold into each other.

Greek tragedy is similar to fantasy except for matters of form (e.g. the chorus). Euripides was a startlingly modern playwright, especially when it comes to psychology.

Heracles can be portrayed as a monstrous monster-slayer (I’m looking at you, Sophocles), but in Euripides he’s noble, brave, and domestic. He performs his labors because he’s the kind of guy to use his powers for good.

Hera, being a jealous jerk, drives him mad; Madness herself is unenthusiastic about the whole affair, recognizing that Heracles has made the world a better place.

But insane Heracles knows that he’s murdering innocent people. Is that who he really is? Is it all Hera’s fault?

A generational ship fallen to ruin and tribalism? Sign me up! Roy spares no effort in bringing to life his vivid, action-packed book. The fun here is less the characters than the world-building and how artfully the past is revealed plot-point by plot-point like a delicious sci-fi strip-tease. Plus, Roy drew the shit out of this book.

In a post-apocalyptic world run by an oppressive American empire, we find Little Bird hiding in a hole. Though her mother was a great leader of the rebellion, Little Bird has found herself very lost, in a very cruel world - and she just might be the last chance that the freethinking people of the Western world have. 

I love that this story takes familiar forces and fears of our modern life and cranks them up to eleven. With that in mind, the star of the show must be Ian Bertram’s artwork. All the huge ideas and themes created by Darcy are elevated to a startling degree by the way Ian is able to build this world visually. The iconography, the violence, the characterizations, it slaps you in the face page after page.

I have a tender spot for heroines who experience such strong emotions that they’re prone to being tossed by their own inner tempests. (I…ahem…might resemble that last comment). Romy had to make a wretchedly hard choice to protect her brother and the fallout separates her forever from the man she loves. She’s a determined, fiery woman and her diligence helps her survive in a city where her magical gift is forbidden. Her past could easily have made her bitter, but she fights with hope for second chances and a ferocious love that makes me adore her! When Romy teams up with other magically gifted people for a complicated heist, she’s consistently kind, unifying, and bravely vulnerable. I just love her!

This is the granddaddy of all EMP stories—the one that arguably kicked off the entire genre and the one that got me interested in EMP disaster books. So grounded that it has been cited as a cautionary tale in Congress, the story doesn’t shy away from the grim realities of a world where technology suddenly stops working.

Retired army officer John Matherson suffered his share of hardships, but I liked the way he never lost hope or stopped fighting for his family and community. 

I loved this star-crossed lovers story. It was dark, mysterious, and achy. In a weird way, it reminded me of the Harry Potter series, in how it was a mystery forever unfolding and I love that about it. It certainly kept me guessing and on the edge of my seat and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

Who Fears Death was a book assigned to me in a college course, and it was the most enjoyable piece of course work I ever had to read. Centered in post-apocalyptic Africa, Who Fears Death follows a biracial girl living in a segregated society that rejects “mixed blood.” I was endlessly cheering for the main character—Onyesonwu—and her stubborn pursuit of her own magical path. I pushed off reading most of my other coursework in order to finish this story and discover where Onye’s path would take her. Okorafor’s society-building was not only convincing, but also heartbreaking, and contained mirrors to present-day society. This book had me excited to do my homework, and is one I would recommend to anyone—in school or not.