Science fiction has an image problem. Ask someone who hasn’t read much of it what they think the genre is like, and you’ll hear: dense, technical, full of made-up words, more interested in ideas than people. And honestly? Some of it is like that. Some of it very much is.
But the best science fiction isn’t primarily about technology or space travel or alien civilisations. It’s about people navigating extreme circumstances. It uses the speculative premise as a lens — a way of holding up ordinary human concerns at an unusual angle so we can see them more clearly. Loneliness. Power. What we owe each other. What we’d sacrifice to survive.
The trick is starting with the right book.
The books that convert people
Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel. If you’re going to read one piece of science fiction to test whether you like the genre, make it this one. A flu pandemic wipes out most of civilisation; twenty years later, a small travelling theatre company performs Shakespeare for the scattered communities that remain. The science fiction content is minimal — no advanced technology, no space, no robots. What it has is a deeply human story told across multiple timelines, with real characters you’ll care about and prose that’s actually beautiful. It’s the book that most reliably converts people who think they don’t like sci-fi.
A devastating flu pandemic collapses civilisation almost overnight. Twenty years later, a travelling symphony and theatre company performs for scattered survivors. Beautiful, humane, and deeply felt.
The Martian by Andy Weir. On the opposite end of the technical spectrum, but just as effective as an entry point. An astronaut is accidentally left behind on Mars and has to science his way to survival using only what’s available to him. It’s funny, fast-paced, and structurally simple — the whole thing is essentially a problem-solving thriller set in space. If you like the voice and the pace, you’re probably a science fiction reader.
After a catastrophic dust storm forces his crewmates to evacuate Mars, astronaut Mark Watney finds himself alone on an empty planet with limited supplies and no way to call for help.
Going deeper
Once you’ve found an entry point, the genre opens up enormously. Here’s how to navigate from beginner territory into deeper water.
If Station Eleven worked for you, try Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro next. It’s technically science fiction — there are clones — but it reads like a quiet English literary novel. Then The Road (yes, it counts as post-apocalyptic), then Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness, then all of Le Guin.
Genly Ai arrives on the ice-locked planet Gethen as an envoy for a galactic federation. The Gethenians are ambisexual — and their society raises profound questions about gender, identity, and what it means to be human.
If The Martian worked for you, try Project Hail Mary (also Andy Weir — even better), then The Expanse series by James S.A. Corey, then Kim Stanley Robinson’s The Ministry for the Future if you want something more ambitious.
If you want big ideas without hard science, start with Brave New World or 1984. These are technically classic dystopian science fiction, but they read more like literary novels. They’re also genuinely important books — things that will change how you see the world.
Winston Smith lives in Oceania, a totalitarian superstate where the Party controls every aspect of life, including language, history, and thought itself. One of the most influential novels ever written.
In a genetically engineered future where all citizens are pre-conditioned into happiness, Huxley asks whether a world without suffering is really a world worth living in.
What to skip when starting out
A few caveats for beginners. Classic “golden age” science fiction — Asimov, early Heinlein, a lot of Arthur C. Clarke — can be a hard starting point. The writing style is often dated, the characterisation thin by modern standards, and the ideas, while genuinely interesting, can feel abstract. These authors were enormously influential, and it’s worth reading them eventually. But they’re not the right entry point.
Similarly, series starting points can be difficult because you don’t know yet if you’re a science fiction reader. Starting a planned twelve-book series is a big commitment before you’ve established the taste. Start with standalones.
The common thread
The science fiction that works best for new readers tends to have one thing in common: the speculative premise serves the human story rather than the other way around. The question isn’t “what if we could travel to Mars?” but “who is this person, what do they want, and what will they do to survive?” The setting is just where the story happens to take place.
Once you see that, the genre’s apparent difficulty dissolves. It’s not a different kind of reading — it’s the same kind of reading, just with more interesting furniture.
It’s not a different kind of reading — it’s the same kind of reading, just with more interesting furniture.