Books like The Iron Dragon's Mother — picked by fans

This is a highly propulsive and emotionally engaging novel with a sympathetic protagonist at its core.

It could be considered a portal fantasy, but I'd categorize it, along with the other books on this list, as “speculative,” because it doesn’t fit neatly into either the fantasy or science fiction genres and is anchored in contemporary or near-future realism.

Piranesi’s beautifully executed theme, about how a dramatic change in perspective can lead to a deeper appreciation for the beauty and nobility abiding beneath the ugliness of humanity and our one and only world, is one for the ages.

This highly original and beautiful book is destined to endure as one of the classics of early twenty-first century literature.

For a more traditional take on fantasy, Sofia Samatar’s A Stranger in Olondria is lovely and immersive, a fascinating new world worthy of Ursula Le Guin and Gene Wolfe.

Reportedly, she created Olondria from a combination of regions in Turkey and North Africa, and it feels absolutely fresh and instantly powerful. A teenage merchant becomes haunted by the ghost of a young girl and must find a way to put her to rest.

But the story is really about the power of books and stories and language itself. It’s a love letter to adventure and open seas, harbors, and alleys, and snowy mountains in the distance.

Ms. Samatar holds several advanced degrees in language and literature, including Arabic and various African dialects, and you can feel the joy of her verbal artistry dancing on the page.

Stranger is not to be missed.

You know how you go somewhere you’ve never been and you feel hollow in your bones, like you’re more fragile there, you might blow away in a strong wind or just melt down if this place doesn’t learn to recognize you?

Amatka is like that, and it’s about that. We follow someone trying to diligently do a perfectly normal market research gig in place where everyday objects must be clearly labelled and the labels reinforced constantly, otherwise they dissolve into slush.

She has to keep putting things in their place, but she’s not too good at that, because she’s always been out of place herself.

I mean, isn’t that exactly what life is like? And then it all falls apart.

Death in Spring is a tiny book containing a bigger, more intricate world than many a doorstopper, for all that the whole story set in a small, nameless hamlet.

Life there too is made of strange, violent rituals, only not the ones we know. We follow a boy growing up and learning them, and being scarred by these mysteries—what do they fill the mouths of the dead with, before they are killed and put into a tree forever? (It’s cement.)

Rodoreda wrote in Catalan, and Tennent’s translation is fluid and beautiful.

Perfection is a rare thing; if you want to see what that looks like, here you go.   

The murder of the ‘Princes in the Tower’ is the most famous cold case in British history. Matthew Lewis delves into the context of the disappearance and the characters of the suspects and asks a crucial but often overlooked question: what if there was no murder? Lewis provides a rounded and complete assessment of this most fascinating historical mystery.

This is the story of a man and his lover who kill the man’s wife in London, then try to escape on a ship to Canada disguised as father and son. Awkward, but doable, unless you have the misfortune of timing your transatlantic cruise with the advent of radio communication.

Thanks to the new "wireless" technology, this couple was unwittingly trapped the moment they stepped aboard. I felt like a bird, hovering above, espying them leaving their quarters to go to dinner, then flapping my wings like mad to get over to the captain and listen in as he reports their movements to authorities on shore. Absolutely captivating.

This book resonated deeply with me because it explored the intricate layers of human nature, beautifully encapsulated in the quote, ‘To know what a person has done, and to know who a person is, are very different things.’

The gripping narrative, based on a true story set in 19th-century Iceland, draws me into the life of Agnes Magnúsdóttir, a woman accused of murder, as she awaits her execution. Kent's masterful storytelling skilfully delves into Agnes' complexities, making her a character so vividly real that I fervently hoped for a different outcome despite knowing the inevitable fate that awaited her.

This emotional investment and the stark portrayal of the human condition left a lasting impact. Kent captured both the darkness and light within us all.

I was hooked from the first pages and couldn’t put the book down. The story is set in a cyberpunk world, where advanced technology permeates every aspect of human life, making life easier at the cost of privacy and independence. 

I loved the world-building and the protagonist, raged at the injustices with him, and hated the antagonist. The mystery kept me invested and intrigued, and I reached for the book whenever I had a moment. I didn't expect the ending and was a bit heartbroken. I also loved the way it was written—it was so clear and easy to read that I was completely immersed in the narrative with nothing to pull my attention away.

This is book 2 of the Planetfall series, but it’s perfect as a standalone. I started the series with it.

I’ve covered rock, classical, a capella, and new wave in my list, so I thought I’d round it out with sugar-sweet pop. Kill the Boy Band is a darkly hilarious journey into fangirl obsession filled with quirky characters and sitcom situations that are as fun to read as they are improbable. The boy band in question is The Ruperts, a quartet of British heart-throbs with an eerie resemblance to One Direction. When four superfans score a room in the hotel where The Ruperts are staying, they hatch a plan that goes awry fast, leaving the band with one fewer Ruperts and the girls with a…very incriminating situation.

I loved this book for so many reasons, but my favorite was the deep dive into superfan culture. A lot of the book is spent questioning the nature of this culture, but in a way that's genuinely soul-searching and not condescending—the… show more.

I have read and loved all of Ann Cleeves’ books about Detective Inspector Jimmy Perez, set on the Scottish Shetland Islands. Red Bones is about two feuding families with generations of secrets between them, who are somehow involved in at least two murders. Islands, particularly those that are small and/or remote, foster communities that are incredibly tight-knit by necessity – often your survival entirely depends on one another. That has always made me wonder what lengths such communities might go to in order to survive; what secrets they might have to keep, what lies they might have to tell if something terrible happens that could jeopardise their whole existence. My time living on the Isle of Lewis in the Scottish Outer Hebrides very much inspired The Blackhouse, but it was in no small part also inspired by the wild Shetland Islands as described in Cleeves’ wonderful stories.