100 Books Like Outsiders

Solid anthology but the cream of the crop standout is bar none, "Dog" by Joe R. Lansdale. A tale about a man on a bike being chased by a dog is like Cujo on steroids. Highly intense and fast-paced, the story never lets up from the first page. It never slows down and the poor character’s bike trip just gets worse and worse. This one will keep you on the edge of your seat and thinking about it long after.

I recommend this book above other Stephen King anthologies for one specific story. "Mile 81". I grew up around Mr. King and he even came and read from one of his books in our high school auditorium. We all know him and there are a million to pick. But I chose this for both readers and authors. The story is about a car that is not what it seems. (Yes, a car.) The reason I believe even writers should study it, is how well it takes a concept and sticks with it and makes it real. The story is fun, gross, and tense, but also a masterclass in storytelling.

This little gem of an anthology is shorter than most I read but boy is it packed with superstars in horror. But the story that stands out here is "The Playhouse" by Bentley Little. I could have included his own collections here, and you should consider reading them, but this unique tale really stands out in a solid anthology, so I wanted to recommend this. Bentley Little has always been one of my influences even though I came across him later in my horror journey. His no-nonsense storytelling drags readers in quick and takes them along for the ride. In this a realtor discovers a playhouse on a property she is to show, and everything goes wrong from there. While a horror tale, it also deals with vestiges of youth and the passage of time. A truly remarkable tale.

There are a lot of great stories filled with graphic sex, gore, and violence, as Clive Barker does so well, in this anthology but for me the standout story is the one of revenge titled, "Confessions of a (Pornographer's) Shroud". It was written as a black comedy and Barker does it well.

Ronnie is a fervent Catholic who is falsely accused by the Mafia of being the ringleader of a pornography cartel. After killing two mobsters in retribution, he is brutally tortured and murdered by the mob. Except, Ronnie manifests as a vengeful spirit and animates the shroud covering his body in the morgue. He then takes revenge on the rest of his enemies, and in a gory climax, the spirit enters the mouth of the mob boss and turns him inside out. There is also a twist at the end of the story.

There are several nods to this… show more.

In this classic, Gregor Samsa, a traveling salesman, famously wakes up one morning to discover that he is a gigantic vermin.

Interpretations of the book range from Kafka trying to say that modern life reduces us all to being bugs, to the idea that Kafka was really writing about art, and how, since the artist cannot ever be understood, he might as well be an insect.

I read it as Kafka's attempt to reconcile two philosophies - that of Nietzsche, who claimed that the human will is a force that leads to happiness, and that of Schopenhauer, who claimed that the will is just about survival.

In Kafka's hands, metamorphosis is both life-affirming and life-denying. 

Shapeshifting lizard people. Oh. You want me to say something else?

How about... a world like no other, peopled by all manner of beings (but no humans, which is honestly a delight). The setting is so fantastic, but also so meticulously designed—every settlement and civilization feels organic, fully realized, and unlike anything else. But what about the story—?

Moon doesn't know where he's from, but he knows he's the only shapeshifter he's ever met, and the only person with wings...and worse, he thinks he's part of the terrible Fell, a species that seems to be invasive and hostile and looks a lot like him.

Then he meets another Raksura, and learns how wrong he's been about everything, including himself. 

Kristina Gocheva-Newberry is a natural storyteller. Her narrators tend toward disarming authenticity. They tell it like it is, rather than censoring themselves out of politeness—a habit several of her characters see as problematic and uniquely American. What Isn’t Remembered features a plethora of characters of Russian and Armenian descent, both in the US and in Russia, and depicts their lives as citizens, immigrants, and the children of immigrants. Cultural tensions wind through the book and are tempered by startling moments of tenderness. At heart, the book is about messy relationships and the invisible histories that press and bind. What Isn’t Remembered is the perfect book to sink into on a quiet, rainy day. 

I’ve never read a book as quickly as I read this one. Our eponymous lead character is quirky and odd, but the story is written with so much empathy, depth, and humor that I was rooting for her from the start.

I loved how the relationship between Eleanor and Raymond plays out and avoids the predictable ‘boy meets girl’ ending. It doesn’t surprise me that the book is ‘in development’ as a movie, as the story plays out like a film when you read it. Definitely read this one first before you see the film! (It probably won’t take long as I couldn’t put this book down.)

This novel has everything I love – a narrator who’s definitely not telling us everything, newly arrived in a remote house by a lake in Norway that is so clearly drawn I can see and feel it in my bones.

Trond has secrets and this is where he’s going to live now. There’s a man down the track whose window he can see when it falls dark. A river flows fast beyond the trees. Petterson’s beautiful, spare writing creates a filmic atmosphere in which past mysteries unfold as Trond begins to learn to live alone with his past.

Stunning story-telling, wonderful place-setting, and a character utterly unlike me that I loved reading in his solitude.

When I first moved overseas, I hadn’t thought about leaving my friends behind, or what role they played in my life. We had largely spent our lives apart, ever-connected if remote, and that seemed to fit us just fine. Then something akin to culture shock took hold and I needed them more than ever. They were there, in their Zoom boxes, and on telephone calls. I was reminded to check in with them often—to keep the good thing we had going.