100 Books Like The Chinatown Death Cloud Peril

James Ellroy’s 1987 novel exploring the infamous unsolved and ghoulish murder of Elizabeth Short, the so-called “Black Dahlia,” gripped me with its chilling portrayal of two very different cops who become obsessed with solving the 1947 murder.

Although this is a relatively early work of Ellroy’s and extremely visceral owing to the nature of the historical crime, it’s arguably the author’s first mature novel, proved to be his breakout book, and pre-dates the rather alliterative, staccato prose style he would adopt not long after.

Post-war Los Angeles is seedily, disturbingly rendered in surreal and gothic relief, while Ellroy also masterfully portrays many of the haunted LAPD detectives who actually worked the case.

The first part of Isaac Asimov’s autobiography provides a fascinating, clear-eyed glimpse into the emerging world of science fiction as the young Asimov grows up in New York, works in his immigrant parents’ candy store, and dreams of writing stories.

There’s a certain innocence in the pre-war world where young kids were dreaming up science fiction, and Asimov is at his best here, relying on extensive diary records to recall his first meetings with Campbell, Heinlein, and L. Ron Hubbard, to name a few. A window into a long-vanished world, it is never less than compelling.

Growing up in New York around the same time as Asimov was Fred Pohl, young, ambitious, argumentative, and occasionally brilliant.

We meet many of the same people – and see the same events – that Asimov describes, in a somewhat different light, as Pohl forges his own path through the emerging world of science fiction, as an agent, editor, and writer in his own right.

It’s beautifully written and again, provides a fascinating insight into that long-ago world, complete with its many petty feuds – that the socialist Pohl was banned from the first Worldcon only to start his own competing event across the street is a marvelously entertaining anecdote recounted both here and by Asimov.

Merrill, a brilliant editor and writer in her own right, was a rare woman to cut through the chauvinistic world of the Golden Age writers.

The book recounts her journey as a writer (she wrote the classic SF story “That Only a Mother”), editor (as in the ground-breaking 60s anthology England Swings SF), her short-lived marriage to Fred Pohl and her fascination with socialism. It certainly gives you a different view of the male-dominated world of science fiction at the time, and an insight into one of SF’s important practitioners.

Anthony Boucher straddles the history of both crime fiction and science fiction.

As the founding editor of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction he has an oversized role in the history of the genre. As a crime writer, he gave his name to the Anthony Awards, which are handed out every year at the annual Bouchercon.

His SF story “The Quest for Saint Aquin” is a classic. None of this, admittedly, has much to do with Rocket to the Morgue, Boucher’s roman-à-clef mystery set in pre-WW2 California in which the emerging world of science fiction comes to glorious life. A young L. Ron Hubbard makes an appearance, as do Robert A. Heinlein and the rocket scientist and occultist Jack Parsons.

The mystery matters less than the characters, who though moving under different names are all very much true to life.

I was immediately taken with author/filmmaker Nicholas Meyer's brilliant pairing of a flailing, cocaine-addicted Sherlock Holmes with a winningly rendered Sigmund Freud, whom a desperate Doctor Watson has recruited to save the self-destructive detective.

Freud’s efforts eventually teased out the darkest of secrets driving Holmes’ notorious substance abuse in a manner I found enthralling. I believe the best historical novels confidently ground you in a time and a place that captivates but also conjures a reality all their own in their blending of fact and fiction, which this novel does in spades.

I’ve revisited it many times over the years. A wonderful film adaptation by Meyer was also released many years ago, starring Nichol Williamson as Holmes and Alan Arkin as Freud.

This novel sparked my lifetime obsession regarding Mexican Revolutionary Francisco “Pancho” Villa and the U.S. Army’s eventual pursuit of Villa deep into Mexico following his presumed attack on Columbus, New Mexico.

In some ways evoking aspects of Hemingway’s A Farewell To Arms, this is a blood and thunder coming-of-age novel set against a wartime backdrop and narrated by a young (and future silent movie cowboy star) Tom Mix, who on a romantic whim, decides to cross the border and fight with Villa to overthrow Mexico’s despotic president.

I believe I reread this novel perhaps six times within a year of its 1982 release. Irving also knows something about effectively mixing fact and fiction as the convicted (and incarcerated) author of the notoriously fake Autobiography of Howard Hughes.

Victorian serial killer Jack the Ripper and fictional detective Sherlock Holmes have squared off countless times on screen and in various novels to varying degrees of success, but for me, this is the best story pitting the still unidentified serial killer against the most famous of fictional detectives.

Steeped in an immersive Victorian atmosphere and detail that drew me in, Hanna also effectively breathes life into several historical figures associated with the notorious case while remaining faithful to Arthur Conan Doyle's overall spirit.

In my opinion, Hanna’s version of Holmes subtly suggests inspiration was drawn from the late great Jeremy Brett, arguably the finest screen Holmes, while also giving Dr. Watson his intellectual due.

To read an adventure of The Shadow is to white-knuckle a trip through the underworld, upon whose end there is only justice for the guilty. Much like the dark avenger’s dual identities, “Maxwell Grant” is, in reality, Walter B. Gibson, reporter, magician, and author of hundreds of Shadow magazines across 18 years.

Gibson is a role model of mine for both his productivity and craft, of which this is a stellar example of both. From the tightly-paced action to the dastardly eponymous villain to The Shadow’s ingenious thwarting, its a quintessential pulp thriller from top to bottom, the kind of clever crime-fighting that always leaves readers (myself included) with smile on their face, and proves to all that “crime does NOT pay!”

This is the first book I responded to in a big way when I was fourteen.

It had everything: close-up tricks, illusion secrets, magic history, an exposé of phony mediums and spiritualists, how to escape from ropes and boxes, pick locks, read minds, and walk through a brick wall.

And most important, it also had a hero I could identify with – Houdini, master magician, escapologist, daredevil, pilot, author, historian, and champion of truth and justice. And he was Jewish, like me.

I found the book incredibly rich on many levels. It confirmed in me that I wanted to be a magician and that magic was wonderful.