K Shel Blogs

(and why I love their work)

One of the reasons I love reading is the escape it offers – the chance to experience other worlds, different perspectives, and twists on reality that break from the everyday.

I’m drawn to authors who stretch the imagination and invite readers into places that don’t follow a predictable path. This takes me into a lot of sci-fi, with its explorations of the unknown and its potential for reimagining what’s possible. But it’s those same traits that draw me to writers like Kazuo Ishiguro and Haruki Murakami, who go beyond genre to explore human connection, the boundaries of memory, and how time shapes us.

Each writer here invites us to see the world differently – through complex societies, personal introspection, or uncanny landscapes – creating a mix of escapism and reflection on who we are when facing the unknown. Wow.

Adrian Tchaikovsky
Tchaikovsky brings entire worlds to life.
His books go deep into what makes a society, a species, and a world unique. The Children of Time series explores evolution and intelligence from the perspective of alien species, blending hard science with immersive storytelling. With an amazing depth of detail and subtle (slightly morbid) humour, I haven’t come across an Adrian Tchaikovsky book I didn’t love.

Emily St. John Mandel
Mandel finds humanity in extraordinary moments.
Her stories often revolve around ordinary people dealing with massive, world-shifting events. In Station Eleven, she examines what it means to hold onto art, memory, and hope in a post-apocalyptic world, while The Glass Hotel explores themes of loss and resilience. Her grounded realism makes the surreal elements all the more poignant.

Kazuo Ishiguro
Ishiguro’s work is subtle yet deeply affecting.
Ishiguro has a way of capturing memory, loss, and the human condition with such a gentle understated depth. Never Let Me Go and his latest, Klara and the Sun, each reveal layers of meaning, exploring themes of identity and memory. Something about his work stays with you, uncovering new insights long after you’ve read it.

Haruki Murakami
Murakami’s surreal worlds blur the line between reality and dreams.
His novels pull you into a place where the ordinary twists into the fantastical. 1Q84 was my first Murakami book, introducing me to his unpredictable narratives and dreamlike worlds. You never quite know what to expect with a Murakami!

Cixin Liu
Cixin Liu writes sci-fi on a grand, thought-provoking scale.
His Three-Body Problem series explores humanity’s place in the universe with rigorous scientific concepts and philosophical depth. Liu’s work doesn’t just entertain; it challenges you to think about existence, technology, and the future in a profound way!

David Mitchell
Mitchell’s layered storytelling creates intricate, interconnected worlds.
With novels like Cloud Atlas, Mitchell takes us on a journey across time and reality. Weaving multiple narratives from different eras, the story explores how lives, actions, and ideas echo through history, connecting characters across centuries.

Becky Chambers
Chambers brings optimism and warmth to sci-fi.
In A Psalm for the Wild-Built and its follow-up, Chambers explores the potential for kindness, acceptance, and diversity in a far-future but relatable setting. Her work is a reminder that sci-fi can be as much about human connection as it is about technology, offering a refreshing and hopeful perspective on the future.

Ray Nayler
Nayler’s stories push at the boundaries of human understanding.
In The Mountain in the Sea, Nayler explores the intersection of humanity and the unknown, tackling questions about consciousness and our place in the world. There’s a philosophical element to his writing that invites you to contemplate questions that don’t have easy answers.

Jeff VanderMeer
VanderMeer’s work transforms nature into something beautifully unsettling.
In his Southern Reach trilogy, beginning with Annihilation, VanderMeer merges eco-horror with speculative fiction, creating worlds where nature itself seems both beautiful and menacing. His writing challenges perceptions of the natural world, blending wonder with an undercurrent of unease.