83 books like Elantris

I didn’t read this amazing 1993 novel until 2016 when its seeming prescience about an America wracked by climate change, economic collapse, and social dysfunction became more evident.

This is maybe the best example of the kind of American novel I like to call dystopian realism—using the tools of speculative fiction to put a dark mirror up to real life and show truths conventional literary fiction cannot.

The story is told from the perspective of a girl, a Black teenager who has a rare gift of hyper-empathy, literally feeling the pain of others around her. It’s a brilliant device to help us think about the lives of others, imagine new ways to construct a community, and navigate a volatile future.

I loved that this book doesn’t oversimplify challenging themes for a young audience. It mingles magic, action, and fascinating worldbuilding with some heavy philosophical and ethical undercurrents in a unique and compelling way.

The protagonist, Lyra, was a bit of a brat (in the best way), and I loved her mix of naivety and intelligence. I especially enjoyed the portrayal of dust as a conscious particle, and the most fascinating aspect for me was the study of its mysteries.

While I can’t comment on the specific religious undertones—I am not Christian and harbor no negative feelings against the church—I did appreciate the overarching conversation around religion as an institution.

In a list about zombie apocalypse references, this is definitely a quirky entry. But it is important for all writers to read outside of their genre, or they run the risk of becoming generic. 

Far more important than the story’s backdrop is the story’s focus. People predominantly care and read about people.

Whether that means writing about people resisting zombies, as is the case with most zombie stories, or writing about zombies doing their best to become human—as seen in Elantris and The Girl With All The Gifts—writers need to know how to tell stories about people.

I don’t write books about zombies, I write books about families. And there is probably no more famous family right now than the Bridgertons (though if I had one more recommendation, it would definitely be Swiss Family Robinson).

By reading books about strong families, I’m better able to translate my own… show more.

Jude Duarte, a human girl living in Faerie, is a cold-hearted ball of ambitious rage. Never have I rooted for a character so much.

Although picking fights with the clever and cruel Fair Folk is not pragmatic – on the surface – when the choice is between waiting for a random death on a bully’s whim or fighting back with every weapon at her disposal, Jude will always fight. I may have cheered out loud when she stabbed an enemy who broke into her bedroom and then stuffed his body under her bed until she could bury him. She does what she has to do to survive–and, in the end, to make Faerie a (slightly) better place.

Holly Black’s writing is so poetic, so smart, so sharp, like a honed fairy blade. She is a master.

I loved the relationship between the boy and the dragon in this book. Although stories showing the bond between child and dragon are common, Paolini makes it new by sharing a depth of feeling between the two.

The development of that relationship and the world-building of the setting make for a fascinating read that kept my attention. This book was so captivating that I had to read the other two in the trilogy.

From the moment I spied the cover, I knew I had to read this book. 

It featured an armored soldier on horseback leading a group of weary travelers on a dark, foreboding night. It whispered of danger and mystery–two things all good fantasy contains. The group, inspired by prophecy, battles against unworldly creatures, eyeless monsters, and enigmatic foes in their quest to defeat the dark one.

I loved the clear delineation between the creator and the dark one and their contrasting visions for the world.

A dystopian zombie-type tale, this novel focuses on a hyper-intelligent child who is starved for affection—and non-vegetarian protein.

Melanie struggles to control her biological impulses, to be more than what the adults fear and to be seen as human instead of an abomination, because she’s capable of love. Yet, it’s her immense capacity for clear, rational thought that makes her oh-so uncanny. 

I’ve read the book—and watched the film—multiple times. If you don’t mind some gore, this story is much more than just a zombie sci-fi.

This is a beautifully written YA fantasy that has the flavor of a traditional epic—like the Lord of the Rings—but also brings us intimately close to its characters, their individual cares, and their unique world. The story centers on Aerin, the king’s daughter, and her journey from being an outcast at her father’s court to becoming a hero in her own right—at the expense of a dragon, unfortunately. 

The Hero and the Crown is often praised as an example of classic feminist fantasy. It was one of the first stories I encountered where the goal of the female main character wasn’t to be rescued or married. But in my opinion, it’s McKinley’s lyrical and compelling prose and fantastic world-building that truly makes this a not-to-be-missed read.

The World Over is the first book in a series, so it sets up the expectations for what is coming.

Winter, on the other hand, is the last in a series, and it did a lot to show me how to bring together an ensemble cast in a way that builds to a satisfying ending without making previous installments feel unnecessary or redundant.
While zombies don’t appear in Winter, the history of the experimentation done to create the evil queen’s lupine army gets a lot of screen time without crossing the line into over-telling.

For anyone interested in the more technical aspects of a zombie apocalypse, Winter is a great novel for learning to weave background exposition with foreground action.

My favorite manga series of all time, and I love the elemental magic system and feudal Japan-inspired worldbuilding. But the best aspect is the characters and their dynamics.

Naruto has made me laugh and cry so much. No matter how old I get, I can’t grow out of it—from the silly jokes to the inspirational monologues to the ‘let’s yell about our ideologies in the middle of a fight’ scenes. Manga is a very different medium from western literature, especially with how ideas and character development are communicated, but it’s worth a read for anyone who can accept those stylistic differences.

I enjoy how Naruto tackles themes of violence, hatred, the cause of conflict, and its vicious cycle… all in a manner that is palatable and touching for young readers but still resonates with adults.