Books Where to Start Jump in the Deep End With Philip K. Dick By Jared Shurin | Published on August 26, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share Philip K. Dick is a persistent, iconic cultural presence. His work has given us Blade Runner, Minority Report, The Man in the High Castle, A Scanner Darkly and a pair of Total Recall movies (one of which is an undisputed cinematic classic, the other of which has Colin Farrell). Like all adaptations, these all have a strained (and occasionally distant) relationship with the source material. But however bastardised they are, they demonstrate the greatest strength of PKD’s work: the big idea. Science fiction’s history is filled with big ideas. But Philip K. Dick had an exceptional, if not unmatched, ability to think about the biggest ideas of them all. What if we are not who we think we are? What are memories if they are not our own? What if reality itself were not, in any sense, real? His work is unbothered with how we make fusion energy or break light speed or maintain life on the moon. The ‘how’ and the ‘what’ are often taken for granted; traditional science fiction platforms used as launch pads for deeper, more provocative expeditions into perception, interpretation, and the nature of truth itself. Big Ideas are great for inspiring Big Movies, even if something gets lost in translation along the way. Why have Arnie wrestle with existential angst when he can pull a giant metal booger out of his brain instead? With that ease in mind, it is hardly a surprise that Dick thrives in adaptation while his fiction, I’m sorry to say, remains (relatively, at least) unappreciated.  This is not entirely Hollywood’s fault. Dick is inspirational. He’s exciting! He is challenging and surprising, always finding ways to push ideas forward; often beyond the point of exhaustion. His books can twist like a child’s tangled Slinky, and be—frankly—just as infuriating to unwind. In short, and I say this in full transparency: PKD’s works can be hard to read. Especially if one goes in expecting the film.  They are, however, well worth reading. Below, you’ll find a few suggestions on where to start, and why. I’m a believer in not plunging into the deep end, which, with Dick, can be outright abyssal. Instead, there’s merit in starting with some of the slightly more straightforward (for him) works, which riff off recognisable tropes and scenarios, but in a uniquely Dickian way. (I’m sure there are many brilliant readers out there that read VALIS when they were ten and think I’m a big weenie. I look forward to hearing from you in the comments.) The Obvious One: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Blade Runner was the first film adaptation of Dick’s work, and still the most iconic. Androids remains, I suspect, the most popular and prevalent Dick novel because of it. Yet, as many other, more notable Dickian scholars have argued before me, the book and the movie don’t have a ton in common. It is hard to compete with the film’s incredible aesthetics. (Fun fact: the term ‘blade runner’ never appears in the work, and was, in fact, lifted by Scott from a different author entirely, basically ‘cause it sounded cool. Which it does.) Which is to say, although I am grateful to Blade Runner for keeping Electric Sheep in print, I am slightly apprehensive that it sends readers into the book with false expectations. It is excellent on its own merits, and even without attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. In a world where most organic life is extinct, access to real animals is rare, and owning one is the ultimate status symbol. Artificial versions exist, including artificial humans—androids, created as servants and soldiers.  Deckard is a bounty hunter, assigned to find and kill six androids that have gone rogue. His investigation takes place over one long day. The structure is a noir homage: Deckard is a cold, unemotive man, focused on his mission. There is less overt humanity to him than the androids he hunts. Nor is he the exception: the other humans in the book are all, in some way, struggling with empathy and expression. The androids are, arguably, no better – but they are certainly no worse. Like all good noir, Electric Sheep it is claustrophobic; the tension rising as Deckard becomes more deeply involved. The book challenges our definition of ‘humanity’, and what it constitutes to be, meaningfully, a human. It is also, fundamentally, about trust. It is noir dialled to eleven: a world where systems are corrupt, institutions are broken, relationships are transactional, and—with the science fictional twist—people may literally not be what they say they are. Everything needs to be tested and prodded, nothing can be taken at face value. Although slower moving than the film adaptation, Electric Sheep is no less beautiful. At its heart, it is a book about a jealous love of life itself. By killing all the animals, the world has made a deep, unrectifiable mistake, one it can never repair. Human beings continue to persist, but soullessly; plodding on in the imitation of life. It is strangely heartfelt, in how it encourages us to appreciate what we have. Especially for those who come to Electric Sheep by way of Blade Runner, an excellent companion is Larissa Lai’s “Rachel”. In both book and film, the character of Rachel—an android with mixed loyalties who fascinated Deckard—is central, yet is given very little in the way of backstory or depth. Lai’s poetic narrative gives Rachel her much-needed voice, and adds a new, yet vital, layer to the story. The One Where He Struts His Stuff: The Man in the High Castle A quick aside. In 1932, J.C. Squire edited an early alt-history collection called If it Had Happened Otherwise. Some stories, some essays, all tackling questions like “What if Booth missed Lincoln?” etc. etc. It is, in and of itself, an interesting historical artifact. Winston Churchill (yeah, that one) wrote an entry called “What if Lee had not won the Battle of Gettysburg?”. You will remember that Lee, in fact, did not actually win this battle (someone please inform the President). Churchill’s story is an essay from the point of view of someone within an alternative history, trying to write an alternate history of their own (one that, initially at least, resembles our own timeline). It is an alt-alt-history. Churchill! Very smart, but also That Guy in your writing class. Three decades later, PKD comes along with an epic-level  ‘hold my beer’ moment, and produces one of the most breathtakingly impressive alternate histories ever written. The premise is deceptively simple. Fifteen years after the Allies lost the second World War, America is now under the rule of Imperial Japan and Nazi Germany. A cast of characters—a businessman, a smuggler, an antiquarian, a trucker (also a secret Jew, a spy, an assassin)—become entangled in a complex plot between the ruling powers. No one is what they seem, and fakes, forgeries and lies abound. At the center of the book is a mysterious work of fiction, The Grasshopper Lies Heavy, which is, in and of itself, an alternate history—a work about a world where the Allies actually won the war. Is this the truth? Or yet another lie? Like all of Dick’s work, The Man in the High Castle leaves the reader with questions about the nature of reality. What if everything we’re experiencing is a lie; is wrong on some fundamental level of being? Does that negate our experiences? Is it, in the case of the dark reality of High Castle, reassuring?  If it sounds complicated, it is: The Man in the High Castle is great because there’s always another twist, each executed with a rare degree of finesse. Dick keeps the plot moving and the tension high. The characters are venal and ethically-compromised, another Dickian trait. But they’re in a harsh world and faced with painful decisions. The world Dick builds is fascinating, horrifying and still (sadly) relevant.  The One That Began It All: Solar Lottery Solar Lottery is Dick’s first published novel, which makes it a good starting point for chronological reasons if nothing else. It is set in a strange sort of dystopia, one in which the cruel rationality of numbers and statistics reigns above all else. Lotteries are used to choose the ‘Quizmaster’—the ostensible world leader. This randomness provides an element of egalitarian hope, and helps keep the world order intact. Everyone has a chance, no matter how small, of becoming Quizmaster and taking power.  The system also comes with its own perverse style of checks and balances. At the same time the Quizmaster is drawn, so is an assassin, also an ordinary person, but now tasked with the duty of killing the Quizmaster. The Solar Lottery plays out from the perspective of Ted, an orderian ‘Dickian’ character: an office worker enmeshed in the system, but not enamoured of it. Trying to make something of his life, he accidentally becomes trapped in a violent conspiracy to topple the current Quizmaster and subvert the system. Solar Lottery is, by no means, on par with the works mentioned above—or many of Dick’s other later novels. It isn’t quite a hot mess, but as a debut novel (and one with a difficult editorial path), it is far from the excellence that the author would later obtain. That said, it has several traits that do recommend it as a starting point: a lot of Dick’s nascent tropes and themes are on display: the dystopia, the ‘anti-’super-rationalist thinking, the character archetypes, questions about the separation of mind and body, and even the side plot about a messianic figure. The story in and of itself is a combination of Vonnegut and The Running Man and a lot of fun. It was first published in the United States as one of the timeless Ace Doubles; the perfect fit for the novel’s uplifted pulp aesthetic.  The Ones Where You See Him Play: The short stories Neither of the above selections are particularly unexpected ‘starting points’ to Dick: the source novels for two of his most popular adaptations will always seem obvious. More controversially, I suggest that Dick’s short stories are often the best presentation of his big ideas. They’re no less twisty, but often more conventional in design. Whereas many of his novels meander, occasionally pivoting mid-journey in unexpected ways, and wandering to unsatisfying conclusions. Shorter formats force a certain rigour. Dick’s short fiction is gratifyingly well-collected. As the author of over a hundred short stories, the complete collection is amazing, but can be a bit daunting. Some favourites that show him at his best: “We Can Remember It For You Wholesale” is more Le Carré than Schwarzenegger; another one that will disappoint if you’re expecting the movie, but is a truly amazing work in its own right. “Beyond Lies the Wub” is one of his earliest works, and features astronauts encountering a telepathic pig-alien. One of the things I appreciate most about PKD is his absolutely bonkers (and seemingly joyous) language, and I can’t help but love the sinister “Wub”. “The King of the Elves” is another early work, a fantasy story about an old man who discovers he is (spoilers) the king of the Elves. An oddly conventional work by the author, it still contains Dickian themes of muddled perception, and questions about choosing one’s reality. “Sales Pitch” is a grim little story of a man pestered horribly by intrusive advertising. Published in 1954, it isn’t Dick at his best, but has always stuck with me as an example of ‘pessimistic science fiction that somehow still underestimates how bad the future will be’. “The Days of Perky Pat” takes place after the apocalypse, where survivors play with their “Perky Pat” dolls as a form of toxic, escapist nostalgia for their old world. Again the theme of choosing your reality emerges, in this case with society choosing to deliberately blind themselves to the world around them, and the consequences of their actions. By contrast, their children are facing the world, in a way that is both unsettling and hopeful. These five cover a variety of genres and formats, but show how, even when Dick starts with familiar tropes or set-ups, he’s unafraid to explore new ground. Not every short story is brilliant (many are outright bad), but the beauty of short fiction is that—especially with the bad stuff—it doesn’t take much of your time. These are merely my suggestions on where to start. Not where to finish. PKD was immensely prolific, and there’s so much more to him than just these books and stories. As a master of the big idea and the challenging question, Philip K. Dick’s legacy continues to inspire new adaptations and interpretations. It is well worth taking the time to explore the original work as well.[end-mark] The post Jump in the Deep End With Philip K. Dick appeared first on Reactor.