Books like Runner — picked by fans

The one thing I appreciate above all else in a novel is emotional gravitas. That feeling transcends time and place; the only thing that matters is what happens to the character(s) you care about. You feel your heart beating, and when you finally put the book down, all you can say is ‘wow.’

Stacy Willingham’s debut lingers long in the memory after the book is read. Her talent at describing setting is any writer’s dream, and her characters snuck into my heart and made me care deeply, all the way to the pulse-pounding conclusion. It is the best thriller I have read in the past half-decade, only challenged by her subsequent novels.

As a twin myself, I’m a sucker for a thriller with a creepy and unreliable twin relationship. The setting in a secluded forest added an intensity to every scene as the two sisters, one an agoraphobe being dutifully cared for by the other, have their quiet escape rocked by the disappearance of a young girl in a nearby cabin.

You spend the entire book trying to figure out which twin might be the unreliable narrator, only to slam headfirst into incredible twists and an ending that deftly incorporates the singular importance of the forest in which they live.

A traumatizing incident that brings teens together, only to be rehashed years later when one of them goes missing during a storm in a secluded location? Megan Miranda’s book hits every mark for a must-read thriller.

I loved the weaved flashbacks, hinting at what happened without giving the full story, even until the end. Knowing enough about who survived—and who must not have—made every flashback fraught with foreboding tension. One of the things I love most in a book is when the story seems complete, and then one tiny extra detail is revealed, completely changing how you think.

I felt like I was there, both in the present at the Outer Banks beach house and in the past, on the banks of the river after the horrible bus crash.

Harlan Coben is the master of the twists and reveals that wrench your heart out, and I could have picked any of a dozen of his books here. He places ordinary people in extraordinary situations and rarely resorts to using a simple ‘evil’ bad guy. There’s always meaning, there’s always hope, and often there is pain as well.

Four kids disappear in the woods, presumed lost forever, until a murder victim twenty years later is discovered to be one of the missing kids. Paul, the brother of one of the missing kids, finally has new hope that his sister is still out there. That’s what’s best about Harlan Coben: he provides hope and heart and the reader has no clue what the next twist will be.

I am sure that the authenticity of someone who has ‘been there and done it’ is unchallengeable. Airey Neave, who tragically died in 1979 at the hands of the Irish National Liberation Army, was one such. After successfully escaping from the PoW camp at Colditz, he joined MI9, the War Office section that supported escaping PoWs and downed aircrew. This strikes a chord with me as a former pilot. In this book, he tells the stories of French men and women of all ages and backgrounds, who, at great personal danger, formed the backbone of secret escape lines. The narrative is not over-dramatised and the matter-of-fact style is one I respect, but the courage of those who harboured escapees or acted as couriers comes through clearly. 

This is the story of Allied POWs who dug escape tunnel after escape tunnel. Simultaneously, they plotted to drive their captors crazy while stealthily equipping successful escapees to evade the enemy as they fled across hostile territory. Although the story has been told several times, including in a movie with the same name, this version was written by a journalist who had been in the camp.

The book is alternately laugh-out-loud funny to awe-inspiring, heroic to tragic. While entertaining, it also raises questions about human strengths and weaknesses. What would you do in the same situation? This has been one of my favorite books since I first read it.  

This book tells the story of the 130,000 men who were captives of the Japanese during World War Two. Food and equipment were minimal or non-existent, men died daily, many in agony from which there was no relief and yet in the midst of such horrors the human spirit steadfastly refused to be broken. Captives helped each other, intense bonds were formed, and selfless sacrifices made. Freedom for those who made it home after the war ended meant many things, home and family comfort of course, but also an adjustment for the loss of friendships and a difficult road to recovery for some.

The authors talked to many of these men and this is their story.

After the news came out that Norman Mailer was writing a book about the life of Gary Gilmore, which came to be his magnum opus, The Executioner’s Song, he received a letter from a convict named Jack Henry Abbott. An avid reader of philosophy and literature who was also serving a life sentence, Abbott wrote to warn the renowned author against misapprehending American prisons and to teach him how to write about the violence of incarceration. The two men exchanged long, detailed letters. Eventually, Mailer collected Abbott’s letters in this book. In his letters, in a tone both detached and lyrical, Abbott writes unforgettably about what spending long years in prison does to one’s soul and body. In my view, the letter on solitary confinement is the finest and most harrowing chapter of this book.  

This book is horrifying, weird as shit, and absolutely beautiful, from China Mieville’s stunning prose to the grotesque splendor of his imagery.

Mieville’s follow-up to Perdido Street Station is a Melvillian Gothic that takes its characters on a sprawling, twisted naval journey that incorporates such horrors as giant mosquito monsters, a symbiotic pair of dictators known as the Lovers, and a Frankensteinian punishment system where bio-thaumaturgists graft foreign limbs or organs onto their victims’ bodies.

The Scar blew my mind when I first read it in college, and made me rethink what a novel could be. Its creativity and depth feel endless, with layers of philosophical and thematic depth. It’s the kind of book that makes you feel like you could read it a hundred times, and still find fresh meaning.

The Scar’s final act also perfectly captures the feeling that you’re beholding something beyond your capacity to fathom—and… show more.

The copy I read came from my dad’s collection. It was signed by the author. I don’t know how Dad knew Pappy Boyington, but years ago when Dad and I were walking through a throng of people at Oshkosh, Pappy broke away from a conversation with two very attractive women to wave and call Dad by name. A teenager at the time, I stood in utter shock and amazement while my dad talked planes with a legend. Though the book covers Pappy’s exploits before, during, and after World War II, a large segment is devoted to his time in a Japanese prison camp. One of his fellow detainees was Louis Zamperini, famous Olympic miler.