What Best Book Series For Adults 2020 Received Top Critical Acclaim?

I'm skeptical of 'best of the year' lists for series because a truly gripping plot often unfolds across years, not within a single calendar cycle. If we're talking series that had major installments or conclusions around 2020 that hooked adult readers, the one that consumed my reading group was 'The Stormlight Archive' by Brandon Sanderson. 'Rhythm of War' landed in 2020 and, while divisive for its deep lore dives, the central mystery of the Shattered Plains and the characters' psychological battles are anything but simple. It's a commitment, but the plot mechanics are unparalleled. A left-field suggestion is 'The Murderbot Diaries' by Martha Wells. 'Network Effect', the 2020 full-length novel, won the Hugo. It's sci-fi, but the driving plot is a tense, action-packed mystery with a deeply relatable, anxious android narrator. The pacing is relentless in a way few 'literary' novels attempt. That series redefined what I consider a page-turner.

Man, I was just looking at the 'Best of 2020' lists again and it's kinda wild how the critical darlings that year all seemed to orbit around this vibe of 'collapsed systems' and 'reimagined myth.' 'The City We Became' by N.K. Jemisin was everywhere, and for good reason. It's less a traditional fantasy and more a furious, loving, and deeply weird thesis on New York City as a living thing, with boroughs personified as avatars. Critics went nuts for its sheer audacity and how it weaponizes urban fantasy to talk about gentrification and community defense. Then you had Susanna Clarke's 'Piranesi,' which sort of defies genre but got shelved in fantasy a lot. It’s this serene, haunting puzzle-box of a book set in an endless House with tidal lower halls. The acclaim was unanimous; it won the Women’s Prize, which says something about its reach beyond just genre circles. It feels like a fable about loneliness and the search for meaning, and the prose is just breathtakingly precise. On the harder sci-fi side, 'Network Effect' by Martha Wells finally got Murderbot a full-length novel, and the love was immediate. Critics praised its perfect blend of action, dry humor, and surprisingly poignant exploration of what it means to be a person, or a construct, building a family. It won the Hugo and Nebula, cementing its status. Adrian Tchaikovsky's 'The Doors of Eden' also got a lot of serious nods for its mind-bending evolutionary concepts and multi-timeline structure, though some found it denser than his usual work. What’s funny is that a book like 'Black Sun' by Rebecca Roanhorse, which was a massive commercial and critical hit, sometimes got mentioned more in 'best of' than in strictly 'critical acclaim' roundups, but the reviews were stellar. It built a fantasy world based on pre-Columbian Americas with such confidence and political intrigue that it felt like a genuine shift in the genre's landscape. That one seemed to bridge the gap between pure acclaim and reader obsession perfectly.

I read a lot of so-called 'literary fiction' but found a series that genuinely absorbed me this decade: Susanna Clarke's 'Piranesi'. I know it’s often treated as a standalone, but the depth and the slow-reveal world-building have a completeness that feels serial. The themes of memory, solitude, and what constitutes reality are handled with a maturity that doesn't need shock value. It’s quiet, but it sticks with you. For something with a more traditional series structure, but equally adult, I’d point to 'The Scholomance' trilogy by Naomi Novik, which started with 'A Deadly Education'. It subverts the magical school trope with a ruthless, survival-horror logic. The protagonist’s voice is brilliantly cynical, and the ethical dilemmas around power and sacrifice are complex. It’s fantasy, but it reads like a thesis on systemic failure and the cost of safety.

Been on a bit of a series kick lately and I keep coming back to how well Tamsyn Muir handled Gideon and Harrow in 'The Locked Tomb' books. The first one, 'Gideon the Ninth', really pulls you in with this swaggering, hilarious exterior, but by 'Harrow the Ninth' the whole narrative structure bends to mirror a fractured psyche in a way I’ve rarely seen. It’s less about gradual change and more about brutal, necessary self-destruction and rebuilding from absolute zero. The characters don’t just develop; they are completely unmade and remade across the series. Some folks bounce off the second book’s style, which is fair, but if you stick with it, the payoff in understanding what Harrow did to herself is devastating. It’s a masterclass in using genre—necromancy in space, of all things—to explore grief, identity, and devotion. I found myself thinking about the nature of sacrifice and memory for days after finishing.