Books like Thin Air — picked by fans

I am not frightened by Cthulhu, the tentacled monsters waiting in the depths of outer space or the ocean. I am mesmerized by them. Lovecraft, often labeled a horror writer, is one of the greatest literary fantasists. His imagination is boundless, and he is as adept at describing strange new environments as he is at evoking a sense of cosmic dread.

This classic novel combines Lovecraft’s signature monsters with an incredible dreamlike atmosphere that grips you and does not let you go. When you stand at the summit of the Mountains of Madness and glimpse what lies on the other side, you are torn between fear and fascination. For me, at least, fascination always wins.   

I first read this book when my baby son was teething. I cradled him in my arms, walked around, and kept reading, unwilling to put it down. Since then, I have reread it several times. The goal of fantasy and science fiction is to transport you into a different world, and Silverberg, a veteran SF writer, knows how to do just that.

The impossible mountain of the book, the Wall, so tall and so sheer that nobody who tries to climb it comes back unchanged (or comes back at all), has loomed in my imagination ever since. I want to be the one to scale it and to find out what waits at the summit. And even though I know the ending, the thrill of discovery is still there every time I reread it.

I love cats and mountains. Both are unrequited loves. I am allergic to cats and have a mild fear of heights. But this is precisely the reason why I am fascinated by informed descriptions of mountaineering in books, especially if the climb leads the reader toward something strange and otherworldly.

Climbing the famous El Cap in Yosemite is a challenge even for experienced mountaineers. But it becomes doubly so when you encounter a ghostly apparition while suspended in a fragile cradle thousands of feet above the ground.

This novel, by turns thrilling, touching, and frightening, satisfied both my love for fantasy and my desire to know more about the actual experience of mountain climbing.   

I sometimes imagine what it would be like to wake up on top of a snowbound mountain, knowing you are alone–and then to hear footsteps outside…It is safe to imagine, of course, because I am NOT alone in a chalet in the Swiss Alps but in my own home, surrounded by my family. However, for a character in this stunning European novel, this is how it all starts.

And then, as you follow the incredible twists and turns of the plot and try to puzzle out the relationships among the characters, you realize that nothing is as it seems. The novel perfectly captures the brooding atmosphere of the Swiss Alps, which I visited as a tourist, although I did not end up in the abandoned valley haunted by echoes. I am glad I did not–but thrilled to read about the characters who did.

I was on a spiritual retreat when I found an old, dusty copy of Lost Horizon in the retreat’s library. Some of this book is surely dated—having a Christian monk as the head of a Tibetan nirvana hasn’t aged well—but the heart and soul of James Hilton’s tale of a world gone mad and one man’s discovery of a hidden paradise feels more relevant than ever. We’re all looking for Shangri-La, for the hidden paradise in our own hearts, and Hilton, through his compelling, heartfelt story, points the way.

The multimodal format is perfect for this moving new book by Kate Messner.

I loved how the main character learned new things about himself with every peak he climbed, the number of obstacles that were in his way, and how directly he examined metaphorical language.

The backstory about the father really came to a satisfying conclusion, and I felt like it was well-earned. 

I love a tense, character-driven thriller, and this one was set in a remote town I’ve visited. 

I love that the book is set in 1963, a decade that had particular significance for Australian women, their roles, and the expectations placed upon them.

It’s not fast-moving, but the setting is an almost palpable character in its own right. I found it dark, rife with corruption, violence, oppressive heat, and both the best and the worst of what Australia has to offer.

This is one of those books I love because you literally cannot put it down until you have reached the final page, and when you do, you are left with a lingering sense of sadness that the book is over.

I love it as a reader, and I admire it as a writer, because it shows how to handle an intense plot with a firm hand, page after page, without losing momentum and without giving the reader a moment to breathe—something I have also tried to achieve in my own books.

In addition, the plausibility of the plot, the dark places where the characters move, the politicians, and those other figures who are always kept hidden from us and who carry out the crimes of power, create an almost disturbingly realistic picture that we should not ignore, because it reveals the true face of power.

Most North Vietnamese soldiers were of peasant background and believed in the sacred cause for which they fought. Then came the end of the war and, eventually, economic reforms. The old general is lost in this new consumerist society, his devotion to egalitarian ideals mocked by his children.

I like this novel because it is one of the few that I know of that features a blind musician like the protagonist of my novel. Also, I feel that the author offers fine descriptions of jazz piano and jazz music. This book was published in 1965, a turbulent time in America. The author depicts being black as a disability like blindness. I think William Melvin Kelley was an excellent novelist who deserves greater recognition.