100 Books Like The Ones That Got Away

Blending sci-fi, fantasy, and horror, Bradbury’s The Illustrated Man takes readers to places they’ve likely only seen in their dreams or, more likely, their nightmares.

From heartbreaking tales of space disasters (“Kaleidoscope”) to frightening tales of a VR nursery gone wild (“The Veldt”), the strength of Bradbury’s legendary fiction is found in the way he brought humanity to even the wildest, most out-of-this-world premise. In addition, his immaculate prose is as much a joy to appreciate on the word-by-word, sentence-by-sentence levels, as it is on the story level.

The Illustrated Man was one of the first short story collections I ever read. The fact that so many of the tales included within its pages still stick with me to this day is proof of its power and legacy.

While trending more toward the fantasy side, then the previous picks on the list here, Link still manages to pull out some of the most unsettling moments in a short story that I’ve ever read.

When I finished her story “Some Zombie Contingency Plans,” I found myself immediately flipping back to the beginning of the story and reading it fresh. Link is masterful when it comes to weaving together narrative threads, playing literary sleight of hand. While the collection and one of the stories within are called “Magic for Beginners,” she’s very much an expert.

The cross-genre blending is very much following in the footsteps of Bradbury, giving a more fantasy-style focus where his work trends toward science fiction.

While his stories might be some of the shortest word-count-wise from the tales featured in these listed collections, Brian Evenson’s prose does not lack for the weird and terrifying.

With many pieces going no further than the flash fiction of 1000 or so words, Evenson’s writing has taught me that it’s not about how many words you use, but how you use them.

In this collection, he adds Westerns to the mix of genres where horror and the weird can take seed and bloom into something mind-bendingly unsettling. “Black Bark” is one such story. At first, it seems to be a tale of two Wild West bandits on the run but as the nightmarish end arrives, readers will find they’ve been reading a very different tale all along.

I discovered Clive Barker's collection of short stories which gave me an introduction to one of the world's best horror writers and film directors. There are so many varied stories within the Books of Blood that it's difficult to highlight some over others.

The Midnight Meat Train was astounding in its detail of visceral butchery, whilst In the Hills, the Cities is fantastic in its imagery of something impossible, which Barker relates with such skill to make you believe the events within are entirely feasible. The Hellbound Heart lets you into a world of new villains and was made into one of my favorite horror films, Hellraiser. I was also lucky to meet and interview Clive, who inspired me to continue writing, saying, "Keep going; you will get better."

SGJ has such a unique voice, it’s hard to deny this collection its props. Here you have a wide range of themes and unique characterization, and I think there’s a lot to be learned from a collection such as this. Dialogue, character building, tension; this is like a guide to writing good fiction.

How far would you go in pursuit of connection? This was the question I was left with after reading this tense and brutal story collection that includes tapeworms, self-crucifixions, and a series of dangerously escalating bets.

Over the course of three unnerving stories, LaRocca explores themes of loss, loneliness, and how humans react to both with stomach-churning gusto, leaving me both horrified and enthralled. Not for the faint of heart and definitely not to be read while eating (I found this out the hard way).

I was amazed at the subtle way this horror story unfolded and how the evil presence slowly began to reveal itself. It draws you in completely.

When the hunters become the hunted and justice is brought by those who were wronged, it is one of the most satisfying aspects of this book. The masterful way Mr. Graham interwove elements of Native American culture and the power of Nature was beautiful, even in its most horrifying aspects.

The final sequences are truly breathtaking, and the final justice is more than gratifying.

There are many negatives about this book that told me to stay away. For me, the subject that deserved to be highlighted is forgiveness. The way the author weaved it into this story was perfect. The topic does not fit with the genre, and though paranormal and suspenseful, forgiveness ties it over for me.

Our Trespasses’ negative was the paranormal side of the book. I’m not a big fan of the genre but once my interest was piqued, I really enjoyed the book. In the end, it wasn’t that big negative, but it made me hesitant to read at first.

I generally don’t gravitate toward slasher horror with its brutal and gory storytelling, but I could not resist this fantastic anthology of superb horror authors focused on women's slasher stories. With supernatural twists and takes of revenge and violence, I greatly enjoyed the variety of styles and plots generally centered around the theme of women having to turn the tables in or take matters into their own hands, usually with blood-soaked results.

In particular, my favorites were standout stories by Cynthia Pelayo, R.J. Joseph, Sarah Budd, Stephanie Rabig, and Laurel Hightower, but they were all winners. I also appreciate that the anthology helped me discover new women horror authors, broadening my ever-growing to-be-read list.

Speaking of vacations, the Rolfes, the family In this book, another beloved, if less famous, classic, do just that with their haunted house. I found this old paperback in a used bookstore ages ago and couldn’t put it down. This tale of a summer stay in a shockingly affordable (for a reason!) house in Long Island spirals out in a genuinely unsettling manner.

I can still recall the profound claustrophobia of this reading experience. Which I’d say is precisely how a novel about a place that won’t let you leave (or at least won’t let you leave the same!) ought to make you feel. The notion of a house that changes its occupants has stayed with me ever since.