100 books like Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark

Legends are made of powerful stuff, and nothing has greater power than a total flip in perspective. I still recall the gut-punch end to this book, though it’s been decades since I read it. 

Robert Neville is a vampire hunter by day and a tormented man by night. As seemingly the only living human in post-apocalyptic Los Angeles, Robert faces depression, isolation, alcoholism, and his undead neighbor, Ben Cortman, who appears outside Robert’s front door each night chanting, "Come out, Neville."

But when Robert is finally captured, and the truth of his situation is revealed, he gets a good look at the world through the eyes of the undead and is forced to ask himself, who am I? What have I become? 

This book opened in a graveyard and never let me go from there.

It’s not the sort of book I expected to like, let alone be wowed by or to be pleasing to a kid, but it works so well. Neil Gaiman’s writing is almost never stronger than it is here and every page kept me hooked to the point where I just wanted to keep reading, page after page.

While short book aimed at younger readers, there’s so much to learn for anyone regardless of age that wishes to exercise their terror-inducing writing muscles. I read this book so long ago that I would guess it was back in 2005. While the time frame is hazy, the details and lessons in the book are anything but. The way Zindel handles the horror parts is what gets this book on this list. The antagonist monster is horrendous of course, but it’s the mystery behind it that is what’s more chilling because it is vaguely hinted at but never outright explained.

Even on the final page, when you learn that this creature isn’t anything new nor anything going away, there are still so many mysteries that will not (and maybe should not) be solved. That is why this book is recommended. When things are over-explained, they tend to lose their magic.… show more.

A fun read, and while this book wasn’t the cause of a flooding of readers in bookstores when it was released, that does not diminish the quality of it. This story takes the Mythos from H.P Lovecraft and adds protagonists that put up a fight against the infamous Deep Ones that every horror aficionado should already know about from Lovecraft’s century-old short story “Dagon”. I recommended this book for the simple reason of writing a protagonist that doesn’t cower in fear doesn’t disqualify the terror if done correctly. As a matter of fact: I would argue it enhances the horror aspects, since showing violence toward a violent enemy early on, rather than a dramatic showdown, can get the hero in much hotter water than they initially planned on.

My second love in literature is unreliable narrators, and from word one, it’s clear the protagonist in John Dies at the End is the worst offender.

There are few likable characters to be found in this book, and none of them are the protagonist. I fell in love with the main character’s sarcastic and often salacious take on monsters, zombies, and everything in between. Every scene feels like a joke to the narrator despite the death and carnage that seems to follow in his wake.

More than any of that, this book felt completely unique. I’ve never read anything quite like it. The words crack like a whip, there’s no slowing down, and even as I re-read lines, I felt like I was starting to lose my mind along with the protagonist. That’s a powerful tale.

McCarthy’s second novel is an underappreciated masterpiece, one that combines the author’s distinct style and notoriously difficult subject matter with a genuinely sublime vision of the world. Simultaneously a horror novel, a historical fiction, a Gnostic heresy, a cosmic joke, and act of spiritual seeking, I cannot recommend it enough.  

I first saw the movie that this book was adapted into, Stand By Me, and the book works every bit as well.

When I was a kid, I had a deal with my parents that I could watch R-rated movies if I read the book first, but for some reason, this was one of the rare exceptions that was turned the other way around.

It’s just such a compelling read, and I wanted to start it over again as soon as I finished it.

This horror novel about a haunted IKEA-like store is playful and fun in every way—from its inventive narrative structure to the book’s mimicry of an IKEA catalogue, complete with a store map and advertisements for furniture that become increasingly deranged.

During daylight, Orsk is a regular furniture store in the suburbs of Cleveland, but when several employees attempt to stay overnight to find out why products keep getting damaged, the building’s dark history begins to bleed into the present. This book perfectly captures the uncanny way nighttime makes familiar landscapes, such as stores and schools, seem entirely unfamiliar, a phenomenon that has always fascinated me. 

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.

I read this book as a kid, probably too young, and it haunted me, but in the best ways. It stuck with me through my entire adult life and was likely something that helped kick off the aspects of my morbid personality to the point where I thought a kid's book about presidential assassinations was okay.

It’s fun and not actually scary, but it feels like it should be scary and is just a good time.