Books like Where Wolves Don't Die — picked by fans

Great adventure doesn’t always mean jungles, star-wastes, or derring-do. The human heart – what one poet called "the wilderness behind the eyes" – can be as electrifying as any firefight. In this tradition, Alice Munro won the 2013 Nobel Prize in Literature. Lives of Girls and Women is her second novel, and like all great adventure stories will tell you more about yourself than you ever suspected. As Sir Walter Scott said of Jane Austen: "That young lady has a talent for describing the involvements and feelings and characters of ordinary life."

Before I read this book, in the 1990s, I had never heard of Canada’s residential school system for Indigenous children. I was horrified, and also ashamed to have been so ignorant. Over the years, I have heard many Indigenous authors speak and have read many books on the subject, and have come to realize that the residential school tragedy is parallel to the Holocaust for Jews—my family’s story. This is the book that opened my eyes.

A scientist discovers that his invention, a defoliant, has contributed to exterminating an entire native reserve in British Columbia, causing the birds and turtles to leave. The battle is on between nature and science to restore the balance. But all is not well in the corporation, for the scientist’s boss has become a shopaholic to compensate for his lonely life and wonders why his wife wants to divorce him. The characters are enjoyable, the action circular, and our current political considerations are tackled in a non-didactic fashion. And the human spirit triumphs despite the chemical overload! Throughout the novel, King makes searing one-liners about unbridled capitalism: “capitalism is the extraordinary belief that the nastiest of men for the nastiest of motives will somehow work for the benefit of all.”

I loved this book because it grapples with some of the really tough topics that our people have to face.

The characters were relatable and dynamic. I think America and Canada need a wake-up call and an effort to reconcile with their historical treatment of Native people, especially with regard to residential boarding schools. People can only handle calls to justice when they relate to those who were treated unjustly.

In spite of the heavy topics, this book does that really well.

Our elders are maps to our history and lands. My grandmother taught me how to navigate America with grit and care and inspired my work in community.

This book narrates how to learn by honoring our ancestors, using the example of the Anishinaabeg tribes in Canada: how to draw maps and re-envision the world from the perspective of people without PhDs but who hold centuries of knowledge.

As an academic, I was taught that people outside of the university were sources of data that we could use to generate theory. I had to learn that everyday people hold powerful theories of the world that PhDs would do well to honor and uplift, especially if we want our knowledge to make the world a better place.

When was the last time you asked an elder the history of where you live and come from: the good, the bad, and the uncomfortable?

An amazing play about an amazing man, artist Norval Morrisseau. Surreal and yet very real, the play deals with three very important periods in this groundbreaking artist's life as he created a whole genre of Canadian art. The audience is given a window into the man's highs and lows, and how in the end, he became rose above it all and became a legend.

This book is just pure, sexy, chaotic fun (with sapphic monster ladies, of course). I’m an absolute sucker for a good genre-bender, and this one is not only chock-full of a variety of monsters, but it’s also a mystery, a comedy, an erotica, and a kind of Bildungsroman all rolled into one.

I laughed out loud more than once when reading this, and certain twists were executed so well that they had me flipping back to the beginning to find the clever foreshadowing. Also, the monsters are plentiful and their interactions are an absolute blast.

This was the book that made Jemma Topaz an insta-buy author for me.

This is another novel I enjoy teaching; students respond well to it. Desai excels in giving detailed domestic pictures of life in India. Here she recounts how an ungainly disabled daughter with what seems to be epilepsy and a learning disability is largely kept out of sight by her upper-middle-class family in the 20th century. The daughter, Uma, goes away with assorted other characters, finding a measure of freedom, but invariably needs to return to her parents’ confining house. At the end of the novel, she is largely taking care of them. Desai shows what we might call a “feminist ethic of care” as she writes of a disabled woman as interesting and worthy of sustained attention, which implicitly feeds into advocates’ contention of the value of all disabled people.

Jo Walton is a wonderfully humanistic storyteller with a deep knowledge of history and art who excels at creating alternate societies, and I was fascinated to see her work on a deliberately smaller, more intimate scale in this novel. The text is made up of the diary entries of Morgana, a precocious teenager who is a voracious science fiction and fantasy reader, as is Jason Velez in my novel. Though published in 2011, the book begins at the end of the 70s and perfectly captures the period.

Among Others excels at character development. It feels like a literary mainstream novel about a young person–imagine, say, the best of Judy Blume–smartly mixed in with glimpses of the fantastic. It wears its love for 70s science fiction on its sleeve and won the Hugo and Nebula awards. 

Young love gone off the rails. David, the teenage narrator, loves his girlfriend so much or so badly that he lights her family’s house on fire. The aftermath of that choice—his desperation to explain, to have them understand what he meant—propels him forward and us backward as he tells the story of an intense and overwhelming first love.

I felt carried away by this book. It was the kind I read with one hand over my mouth, half my brain going “no, no, no” as I kept turning the pages.