56 Books Like Velocity Weapon

Lady astronauts are all the rage these days, but what would it have taken to get women into spaceships in the notably more misogynist 1950s? According to this book, it would take the threat of a world-destroying cataclysm—which sounds about right.

This book doesn’t stop at sexism, though. It tackles a variety of -isms, and doesn’t hold back in showing how absurd it would be to hold onto them as the world burns. Some critics have even suggested that there are too many types of bigotry on display here, to which I would reply, “Dude, wait ‘till you hear about real life.”

Ignore all the yucky, uncomfortable stuff if it pleases you, though, and this will still be a fascinating look at mid-century America, but with ladies in space.

What if reproduction required people to mate with another species—creatures more alien than bacteria?

In this book, Lilith Iyapo awakes after a nuclear war to find her alien saviors expect just that. The alien Oankali are organisms whose cells modify their own genes to perfection. But their genes run short of diversity, until they are compelled to share genes with a population as alien to them as—humans.

This disturbing novel asks us how much of our own humanity would we trade for survival? Would I welcome a half-alien child if its monstrous traits cured cancer? A science fiction novel that made me imagine the biological dilemmas of gene exchange.

Reading the first couple of chapters of this book is like being thrown into the deep end of a pool and asked not just to swim but to do some calculus homework while you’re at it. The setting just doesn’t seem to make any sense, physically or morally. But I kept treading water until this book had a grip on me that wouldn’t let go. By the time the concept of “Calendrical Heresy” came up, I couldn’t put it down.

In this book, spaceships (and their horrifying, inhumane weapons) run on forces that depend on the calendar. Change the calendar and you change the rules of reality itself. This unique bit of worldbuilding lays the foundations for a gritty, unwavering exploration of personal identity under the heels of oppression, and holy crap, is it a wild, profound journey.

Frankly, I want to be friends with Captain Desiree Quicho. And not just her. I want to be friends with the entire crew of the Aerie, along with their assorted bunch of allies, acquaintances, and hangers-on. These include a street-smart psychic with great hair and an even better ass, a NASA engineer, Saharan troglodyte elves, Atlanteans, Bigfoot, a Hellbilly, and a Giant Pacific Octopus named Bobo the Mag.

This book's unique, omniscient-whacky prose style makes you feel like you’re swimming through every character’s mind, not just reading but experiencing their fears, thoughts, and dreams. This is all to say that reading this book really does make me feel like these characters are my friends—and sisters; it feels good. Except for Bigfoot. That guy’s an asshole.

What a phenomenal novel by Ann Leckie! I came across Ann Leckie’s series as I was working through books about cloning while I was writing my books. What do I love about it? The concepts, for sure: AI ships being negotiated, the entire idea of shipping minds around, a leader who sabotages herself to the detriment of her realm. All of these have been done to some extent before, but not at the scale that Ann Leckie takes on. She also manages to avoid some dead clone tropes and dead or dying AI tropes while she entertains. This novel (and series) were done well and the characters pop with personality. Loved it!

Emma Watson firmly places herself in the mind of the protagonist Renata Ghali. Through this semi-reliable narrator, we learn that in this perfect planned society, a lot is happening beneath the still surface. This novel unfolds slowly, layering the pieces on scene by scene until something startling (which I don’t want to ruin for you) happens to the main character. Often in sci-fi, you see the character make some monumental decision, and then they win, and everything’s happy. This book doesn’t do that. Instead, it looks at the very real-feeling impact of said “monumental decision” on those who made it. And despite all of the character depth, Emma Watson manages to deliver a juicy, thick alien world that will leave you salivating for more! 

For someone who’s read every book in the Hornblower and Aubrey-Maturin series, it’s hard to find an age-of-sail book that has anything truly new to add.

Or so I thought until I picked up this book. It asks the question, what if Jack Aubrey could have sailed a wooden frigate to a Barsoomian version of Mars? The obvious answer, of course (and the one in this book) is that Britain would have extracted every plank of Marswood, ounce of Marsspice, and bag of Marstatoes it could get its imperialistic little hands on.

That’s Arabella’s world, where cannons boom in the interplanetary air currents, and spaceships are driven by sail power. As a fan of both sea stories and space operas, I’m there for it.

Don’t be fooled by the silly title; this book shows how I want to spend eternity. A guy has his consciousness uploaded to computers and then explores the universe. I want to see what is out there, but exploring such a vast space isn’t possible given the short time span of human life, so we need a technology like this.

This book is the first in a series where he meets aliens and serves as a god-like mentor for one relatable developing culture. He also interacts with different versions of himself as he copies his consciousness to better explore the universe.

This is a book that asks all the hard moral questions, and isn't shy about not having all the answers, but leaving the reader to try and come up with their own. The worldbuilding is—pardon the pun—out of this world. And if, like me, you can't get enough of it, there are more books set in the same universe.

This book takes us into a space colony populated solely by females who live in a symbiotic relationship with their organic starship. The ship is their shelter and protector, and in return, the women birth tools and components that the ship needs to function.

I love the gory spectacle of these bloody, mechanical births but also how they allow Hurley to explore ideas about community, duty, and belonging. The book is part of a wider sensibility that can be found throughout Hurley’s work, but for my money, this is the one where her imaginative powers are most successfully harnessed.