100 Books Like The Bachman Books

This book originally consisted of six short collections of novellas and stories, but they’ve since been gathered into a two-volume set, so I’m hoping I can count them as one. They go together, and I think they’re nearly all excellent.

When I was a kid, these stories helped build a bridge for me, from the likes of Stephen King (whom I still adore) to new imaginative worlds of horror that include all kinds of transgressive imagery.

I love how Barker combines the fantastic with the visceral, blurs lines between the monstrous and the human, and makes desire dark, dirty, and wonderful. I also love these stories for all they taught me and helping usher in modern extreme/hardcore horror.

Jeff Strand is the flip side to the coin that I continually try to write. He takes a horrifying premise and makes it funny. I try to take a funny premise and make it horrifying. We both succeed to varying degrees.

The opening story in Gleefully Macabre Tales only spans 750 words and it was the last time I can remember laughing out loud at a written story. It concerns a door-to-door magazine salesman, crotchety old man, and a Weiner dog. To embellish further would be to betray the author’s intent. But know that if you do not find yourself smiling by the time the tale is told you desperately need to check for a pulse.

I should not have to recommend the president of the Horror Writers Association, but if you are unfamiliar to Lansdale, this is a great introduction. He is a caustic voice with no pretense, or subtlety. I love him for his sincerity, his abruptness, and his ability to make me feel really bad for laughing.

Best known for penning the infamous Psycho. Robert Bloch, is perhaps the greatest horror author of the 20th century. He is to short-horror fiction, what Ray Bradbury is to the science-fiction genre. Though he is often overlooked for names such as King, Lovecraft, and Barker, Rober Bloch is the preeminent master of the subtle scare.

Women are the top consumers of true crime. But why, when the stories so often feature women as victims of violence? New Yorker journalist Rachel Monroe profiles four different women in the roles of Detective, Victim, Defender, and Killer to see what it’s all about. The reporting and context in this book are staggering, and Monroe’s writing is both critical and empathic. 

A full quarter-century later, what did we learn about the how and why of modern American school shootings from the 1999 slaughter at Columbine High School in Colorado? Not much, apparently, since they still occur with random regularity.

But it’s all here, in Cullen’s remarkable account, in granular detail—the who, how, and why of two rather isolated boys who donned their dusters and walked into their school with guns blazing. The subject matter might be sickening, but this indelible portrait of the perps and victims is essential reading if we have any hope of stemming the madness. 

If you vividly remember the Columbine High School shooting or any of the horrific moments of spectacle violence in the subsequent two decades (Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook, Parkland, etc.), this book answers questions you might have been afraid to ask, such as, how do parents of these “monsters next door”– in particular their mothers – survive in the wake of such horror, and where do they find grace? As a mother to three boys and two girls, in a 21st-century America that continues to be plagued by gun violence, I read (and re-read) Sue Klebold’s honest story, aware on every page, that the reverberating effects of Columbine, complete with active-shooter training in our kids’ schools, still permeate our everyday lives.

Given the alarming number of recent deaths by gun violence it is especially illuminating to consider the various ways sites of violence have been commemorated.

Ranging from total disappearance, to informative plaques, and major memorials, communities have reckoned with the aftermath in radically different ways.

I loved this book because it made me think about the content of site - or rather the content we attribute to the ground - where something shocking happened, be it a mass shooting or any other tragic event. 

Early in his career, Stephen King wrote half a dozen books under the pen name “Richard Bachman,” and decades later, he revived Bachman for one last novel about a small-time crook who depends on advice from his deceased partner in crime when attempting to pull off the kidnapping of a millionaire’s baby.

It reminds me of Steinbeck, with its pairing of a hapless, brutish soul and a smarter, slicker partner who can’t save him from himself, and the windings of fate as King spins them out broke my heart.

Does a kidnapper deserve sympathy? No, but then again, yes, and the amazing thing is how powerfully Stephen King puts you in this unfortunate man’s shoes and makes you feel what he’s feeling. 

I know, I know…’What about Sixth Sense’? That’s usually the Stephen King book people remember when they think of plot twists. It was great, but this one is by far my favorite King novel. It’s got multiple twists, starting with one near the beginning, where you quickly realize you’re not reading the kind of story you thought you were reading.

Then there’s a more traditional twist near the end. And in between King displays his special genius, immersing the reader in a character’s slow, steady descent into madness. I finished it in a single session, and after thirty years can still remember sitting there long after it was over, just staring at the wall.