Our 6 Favorite SF/F Alternate Universes

The Fold, by Peter Clines
The fact that Clines’ fantastic new novel involves an alternate universe isn’t obvious at first, as he masterfully employs a bit of misdirection by having all the characters insist that the incredible technology at the core of the story is actually teleportation (itself a pretty kick-butt SF concept). By the time the team working on the secret government project admit they actually have no idea how their “teleportation” machine works, the reader is committed to the mystery, and he uses the concept of alternate universe(s) to create a tense atmosphere of unease and uncertainty. Without giving anything away, this is one sci-fi novel in which the alternate universe is definitely the Darkest Timeline.

The Chronicles of Amber, by Roger Zelazny
The Chronicles of Amber span ten novels, slowly teasing out one of the most complex multiverses ever conceived—one in which Earth is simply one of many “Shadow” worlds created by the Royal Family of Amber, which is the “real” universe. All-powerful within Amber, the royals can come to manipulate the Shadows, forming new realities and living within them as demi-gods. The original five novels have been described as a cross between hard-boiled detective stories and a high fantasy about powerful immortals, with the key attraction being the sheer imagination Zelazny brings to fleshing out the “real” universe beyond the shadows we can see from Earth—and that incredible subversion of most alternate universe stories, which center on Earth.

A Darker Shade of Magic, by Victoria Schwab
Schwab’s concept of parallel universes, each containing a version of London (color-coded for convenience: Red London, White London, Grey London—and the forbidden Black London, consumed by dark magic and too dangerous to visit) is an intriguing, well-constructed concept to begin with. The notion of “travelers” who serve as liaisons between the parallel cities and smuggle artifacts from one to the other is doubly clever, and Schwab’s inventive rules of magic and magical artifacts make this a light, fun read—right up until a strange bit of detritus from Black London is introduced, and the stakes ratchet a hell of a lot higher. With rare style, this is a book that celebrates the fun factor of parallel worlds.

Anathem, by Neal Stephenson
This massive, massively complex novel from Stephenson, like most of his novels, defies simple summary, and really must be read if you want to understand what all the fuss is about. Basing his multiverse in real quantum mechanics and filling the pages with intense, enjoyable philosophical and scientific debate, what really the eventual revelation of alternate universes as a plot hinge is how Stephenson sees them interacting: through characters who can (often temporarily) share information and perception with their alternate selves, allowing them to guide events towards the preferred conclusion in their personal universes. In the end, there’s no way to summarize what Stephenson’s going for here—anyone interested in a serious, grounded, and incredibly imagined take on the multiverse should just read the book.

Apprentice Adept series, by Piers Anthony
Anthony remains a divisive name in the SF/F world, with plenty of haters and just as many ardent fans. Whichever side of that divide you fall onto, his Proton/Phaze split worlds remain one of the simplest, most effective uses of the alternate world trope: Phaze is a world of magic, Proton a world of technology, and everyone born on either has a duplicate on the other. If that duplicate happens to die, the other can cross over from one universe to the other. When a serf from Proton crosses into Phaze, he becomes a powerful magician, and Anthony has a lot of fun drawing parallels between the two systems that are fascinating when viewed from a writing perspective. After all, any sufficiently advanced technology will be indistinguishable from magic, won’t it?

The Dark Tower series, by Stephen King
What King has done with Mid-World and the larger multiverse he slowly constructs over the course of this seven-book series, is nothing short of incredible: he’s not only created a complex multiverse in which worlds overlap and borrow from each other, he’s used it to link pretty much all of his other books together in one massive metafictional realm. By the time Roland and company arrive in Kansas in the 1980s after Captain Tripps (the world-killing virus from The Stand) has depopulated the place, it’s clear that everything King has ever written encompasses one humongous super-multiverse in a more or less coherent manner—an incredible achievement by itself, augmented by the elegant way King introduces the bleedovers from one world to the next, such as “Hey Jude” being a common piece of music, with different provenances in each.
What alternate universe tales are we missing?