Books like The Ellimist Chronicles — picked by fans

I don’t think cyberpunk as we know it would exist without William Gibson’s Neuromancer. If PKD jump-started the genre, then Gibson advanced it in ways previously unimaginable.

I love the tone and texture of this book. Written in a gritty urban style, the mixture of atmosphere and wacky characters vividly paints the concept of high-tech and low-life that underpins the cyberpunk genre. Plus, it has “street samurai”–I mean, let’s go!

I also love books that combine thrilling adventure stories with the thoughtful exploration of ideas.

The protagonists of this haunting sci-fi/existential horror novel make contact with an alien species that, while highly intelligent, appears to lack any sense of self-awareness. This leads to the scary question: Are the aliens the weird ones in this scenario, or is human consciousness a unique mutation in a universe filled with zombies?

I’m troubled by the way young people today seem to live their lives glued to smartphone and computer screens.

M. T. Anderson gives us a hint of what this might lead to in Feed. It’s one of the scariest books I've read in many years. The six teenagers partying in this novel live in a world of constant distractions. Fashions may change by the hour.

A powerful future version of Virtual Reality allows them to experience novelty and excitement at any time without special equipment—and without pausing for reflection.

And that’s how they live, closed off from life in the real world. As I said, scary.

The first sci-fi I ever read, plucked from a dusty shelf on a mission compound in Niger. The physics explanations were beyond me, and honestly still are, but the astronomical imagery rewired my nine-year-old brain. This is a book (and series) that melds the rigor of hard SF with the scope and imagination of the best space opera, following the remnants of humanity as they flee inscrutable, implacable AI monstrosities. It makes the universe feel visceral and terrifyingly beautiful, and makes the reader feel like an ant.

Wallis Eates is the master of picking scabs and upturning stones to see what scuttles beneath. And often among all the dirt and bugs, she finds such amazing treasure. In this book, she has such vivid and detailed memories I found myself staring into her wonderful pencil marks and time travelling back into the mind of my own little self and feeling all the fear and awe of those years. I was going to write, it's like happening upon someone’s secret diary, but it's so visceral, it's more like being Sam Beckett in Quantum Leap and suddenly, wonderfully finding yourself in someone else’s body for a minute.

The Twilight Zone, again? Yes, The Twilight Zone again. There are tons of great stories here, but I'm highlighting Lynn Venable's "Time Enough at Last," which is arguably even more iconic than "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet." While most would regard it as a science-fiction story more than a horror story, I think it’s one of the best examples ever put to paper of the principle that horror is personal. One person’s inconvenience is another’s world-ending nightmare—and vice versa. Lynn Venable’s broader body of work is not especially well known, but with this one story dropped into a genre dominated by men, Venable turned out one of the greatest and most memorable genre stories there would ever be. So check it out—you know, while there’s still time.

I have loved this book for decades since my parents read it to me out loud when I was a child, because the extraordinary story about the unbreakable bond formed between a man and a formidable wolf in the Canadian wilds has stayed in my heart and mind. Their anecdotes of vulnerability, trust, and love defy all odds.

I hoped that one day, I, too, would find my own soulmate wolf, and I think of their story often.

Told from multiple points of view, this book is a gorgeous romp through Russian folklore. While reading this book, I had the chance to live as a wolf, a young girl, and as Baba Yaga. I got to cast spells, experience powerful forest magic, save a princess, transform into animals, and defeat a terrible king. In real life, I could never experience any of those events, but I could while reading Karah Sutton’s incredible book. I especially appreciated that the story itself came together like a puzzle, pieces fitting neatly together in unexpected ways. This one is a surprise and delight at every turn.

Reflecting on the first decade with wolves back in Yellowstone National Park, this book highlights milestones in the reintroduction effort, takes you out in the field with a wildlife biologist, and shares compelling stories of individual Yellowstone wolves and their packs. With more than 25 years spent overseeing wolves and elk in the park, Doug Smith is a unique authority on wolves and wolf behavior. Around the time our wolf project was coming to an end in the mid-’90s, those first wolves were released into central Idaho and Yellowstone. When we read this book some ten years later, we heard the echoes of our own experience in the behavior and characteristics of the wolves in Yellowstone.

Like Isenberg, Coleman focuses on a single wild creature and its changing historical relationship with humans. Wolves went from hated in early America to loved (at least by some) in modern times. Vicious traces wolves’ shifting American identity and explains how that transformation occurred. Coleman offers a challenging thesis—one that draws upon biology, folklore, and history to explain the viciousness of American attacks on wolves. Though one may argue with his methods, his research is unquestionably innovative. I am particularly impressed with Coleman’s efforts to give voice to the wild creatures he studies. Wolves play a protagonist’s role in his reading of American colonization, and this is an interpretation I wholeheartedly endorse.