87 Books Like Raising Stony Mayhall

What I love most about this book is how Bell uses a zombie apocalypse to explore the complexities of humanity. I felt that Bell uses the zombie threat as a backdrop to look at how people respond under intense pressure.

I enjoyed the contrast of each character’s response to the apocalypse, ranging from kindness and fellowship to exploitation, violence, and madness. I liked the way Bell creates the protagonist Temple to be both innocent and kind whilst being plagued by guilt and tormented by a belief that she is a sinner.

I also liked the complexities and seeming paradox of the antagonist Moses Todd, whose dogged pursuit of Temple is at times Terminator-like and yet somehow almost chivalric in nature, operating under a code of honor, even if it is a misguided one. 

This book rose out of the grave and grabbed me by the ankles. I’ve always loved (and been completely terrified of) zombies. After 28 Days Later scarred me for life (that one scene with the crow and the blood ACK), zombies became somewhat of an obsession. But I always found myself wanting…more. Then this book shambled in my door, and suddenly, I had the twisted, funny, heartwarming zombie fairytale I never knew I needed in my life. It upended the undead genre, and I will love it forever for giving the mix of zombies and romance a big ole bear hug.

When zombies meet the political thriller energy of 24 or Designated Survivor, I’m always going to be in. So it blows my mind that I’m late to the party when it comes to Mira Grant’s Newsflesh trilogy.

This means that I have to confess that I’m not quite finished reading Feed. I know, I know. Rather bold of me to go ahead and include it in a recommendation list, huh? But when you know, you know.

This book has far too many things I love not to include it. It’s got a survivable, post-zombie world. A scary-believable viral premise. Two reporters who are determined to break the story of a lifetime, no matter the risk. And a deadly, twisting political conspiracy. I mean, this is so much story candy all wrapped up in an undead bow. 

Teens, monsters, mind control, conspiracies. Dashner’s YA book packs a punch and forms a fantastic conclusion to the Maze Runner trilogy. I personally loved that while the world’s biggest crisis is a zombie outbreak, the character’s struggle for survival began at a far more basic level – the teens’ need to know what lies beyond their clinical artificial reality.  

Each character is faced with enemies from without – monster and man, but they also need to come to terms with themselves. Do they embrace the old shadow of their former selves? Or do they find out who they can become in a new more dangerous world?  Each character is faced with a myriad of moral dilemmas that outweigh the threat of the monsters created by the flare, and it makes for a fantastic read.

I love a sassy, bright, independent female protagonist, and that’s what I got with Grace Bernard. I love dysfunctional family dynamics, but Grace’s point of view had me laughing out loud. Funny villains are my jam, and Bella delivers one in the middle of a shitstorm that had me reading into the middle of the night.

AI has been coming for my day job for a while now, so I was honestly conflicted when I heard that the talented Megan E. O'Keefe wrote a book about a rogue machine intelligence controlling a deserted spaceship. However, the first few chapters of this spooky, thoughtful, riveting novel made me think again. After finishing… well, I don’t want to spoil it, but let’s just say the themes rang very, very true to someone on the sharp end of the AI revolution.

Storytelling like this embodies the best of science fiction: using a futuristic setting to explore the issues most relevant to the present. That’s why I’m a science fiction fan, and it’s why I adore this book.

“I am the Fog Man,” said their host. “You must have got lost in my fog.” These are the words spoken by a man on Fog Island with a beard and hair that entirely cover his body. His only visible clothing are slippers, metal wristbands, and a candle strapped to a metal headband. He is the one that the kids Finn and Cara encounter when they decide not to heed their father’s warning to not leave the bay of their small coastal Irish village.

The illustrations paint a moody dreamlike journey that swing between whimsical, eerie, and delightfully odd. The text reads like an epic tale from the old country owing in so small part to the repeated use of the word “carragh.” This, like Tim Fite’s book, is another great example of an author/illustrator bringing a cohesive aesthetic to their work. We visit Tomi’s world between these pages, and… show more.

Tamara Alexander is a prolific writer, any of her novels could have made this list. They are all rich in history, full of character development, and feature sweet romances. The Inheritance stands out to me for a couple of reasons. One, the main theme of this book is tough love. An older sister who is forever rescuing her brother has to learn that love can look a lot of different ways and sometimes love requires letting consequences follow actions. This message is rarely featured in a book! It’s not an in-your-face moral, but a gentle thought-provoking takeaway. Another reason this book is exemplary in its well-crafted love story. Alexander expertly weaves her story threads together, giving you bits of history and romance like a weaver of a great tapestry.

I love the magical realism aspect of this novel, which Benjamin handles with such a deft hand you don’t question whether or not the impossible is possible. A fortune teller’s prediction and old-world superstition create a heavy weight that exquisitely-drawn characters must navigate. The power of belief and its effect on destiny is a complex topic. Is it good or bad to know our future? Should we act on what we’ve been told? Should we ignore it? If we believe something does that make it happen? If we disbelieve does it not happen? Every character is a gem, including Klara: an extraordinary magician who convinced me we must embrace the mysteries of the world even if we can’t comprehend them.   

This book, like the author’s award-winning Last Stop On Market Street, features a child taking a trip on public transportation to an unknown destination. Milo, the protagonist, imagines where his fellow passengers are headed in language that is believably childlike but also fresh and vivid. He is heading to prison, to meet his mother – and the surprise ending to this book begs the question of who has a right to judge anyone else, and sends a gentle but powerful message against making conclusions about people based on appearance.