Beyond the Comfort Zone
For the longest time, I was a hardcore literary fiction fan. Life-like short stories, ethereal poems, memoirs that cut to the quick—that was my lane. Until this past April. I was in a reading dry spell, wandering through Target, when I spotted a mass-produced paperback of A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas. I’d resisted those books for years, thinking: How good can it really be?
Let me tell you, pretty damn good.
Here’s my take: the magic of Maas is that she gives the classic fairytale arc just enough of a twist to make it feel new. Reading her books is like drinking champagne—sparkling, fizzy, effortlessly drinkable. For the first time in a long time, I found myself carving out whole afternoons to curl up with a tall glass of water, something sweet and salty, a blanket, and a candle. And just like that, the long-suppressed joy I’d once felt toward reading began to kindle, spark, catch.
Since then, I’ve been reading voraciously across genres I once ignored: science fiction, YA, dystopian, horror, even editorial critique. Here are a few standouts:
The Passage by Justin Cronin
Published in 2010, The Passage kicks off a trilogy set in a post-apocalyptic world where a government experiment creates vampire-like “virals.” Survival, sacrifice, hope—yes, those themes are all there. But what hooked me was Cronin’s sheer skill as a writer. I listened to the audiobook on Libby, and it felt like listening to a film. His descriptions are razor-specific and visceral, his characters fully dimensional, his dialogue crisp, his plot immaculate. Even if dystopian fiction isn’t your thing, I highly recommend it—especially if you’re a writer. It’ll make you want to pull out a dictionary just to match his level of precision.
Remnants (Series) by Katherine Applegate
Do you remember Scholastic Bookfairs? Those newspaper-like catalogs, the scramble to circle everything you hoped your parents would order? If you do, you probably remember the deeply disturbing Animorphs covers—kids morphing into mice or cockroaches for reasons that still feel psychologically unsound.
Animorphs and Remnants are written by the same author, though this series got far less popular. Perhaps it’s because Remnants is even more disturbing.
This 14-book YA sci-fi series follows 80 humans escaping Earth on a spaceship—the Mayflower Project—just before an asteroid destroys the planet. Five hundred years later, they awaken on a massive alien ship called Mother, populated by hostile species and a lonely, powerful AI. Whoever decided to market this as YA wildly underestimated the trauma level. We’re talking a baby fused to his mother (no eyes), random violent deaths, a girl made of worms who can bring people back to life…the works.
My husband recommended them. I love them. He gets me.
The writing isn’t always stellar, but the plot absolutely is. The series is out of print, but we snagged all 14 on ThriftBooks. Worth it.
The God of the Woods by Liz Moore
Another absolute banger. The novel alternates between 1961 and 1975. In the summer of ’75, a camp counselor wakes to find the bunk of Barbara Van Laar empty—eerily mirroring the disappearance of her brother, Bear, fourteen years earlier. What follows is a tense, atmospheric hunt that dredges up secrets you do not see coming. I don’t typically reach for mysteries, but this one got me. Dark, tragic, unsettling, and strangely heartfelt, God of the Woods had me hooked until its final twist.
So here’s my unsolicited advice for the week: grab the book you think you’ll hate. The one with the ridiculous cover. The one your niece swears is “actually so good.” The one a partner or parent once pushed into your hands.
Because the best way to expand your literary horizons isn’t to think harder about what you “should” read—it’s to reach for something unexpected.
Worst case? You DNF it. Best case? It lights the whole damn spark again.
