If what gripped you in The Terranauts was watching E2’s biomes strain under rationing, CO₂ spikes, and the team’s constant trade-offs between spectacle and stewardship, The Overstory takes that concern beyond glass walls. You’ll follow characters like Patricia Westerford, whose research reframes forests as interdependent systems, and activists whose lives converge around protecting living ecosystems with the same intensity the Terranauts tried to balance theirs. The moral knots—public pressure, scientific credibility, and the cost of action—echo the mission vs. media compromises you saw in Dawn, Ramsay, and Linda’s story.

If the sealed E2 grind—counting calories, eking out oxygen, patching systems with ingenuity—was your jam in The Terranauts, you’ll love The Martian. Mark Watney’s potato-farming, oxygen-hacking, and duct-tape fixes on Mars hit that same nerve as the Terranauts’ scrimping harvests and emergency workarounds when the habitat’s balance faltered. Where the E2 crew juggled PR and command interference, Watney wrestles with time and physics; both deliver that tense, problem-solving rush inside a fragile bubble where one mistake can doom the whole mission.

If you liked how The Terranauts lets Dawn, Ramsay, and Linda trade the mic to reveal clashing motives, betrayals, and private justifications, The Power uses multiple viewpoints to show a world upended by a new female ability. As with the E2 diaries and confessional tones, you’ll see ambition, self-mythology, and shifting alliances from the inside. The personal angles accumulate into a bigger social picture—much like E2’s intimate squabbles reflecting grand questions about control, responsibility, and who gets to define success.

If the messy, often self-serving decisions in The Terranauts—the affair-driven rifts, secrecy around a pregnancy, and willingness to game the mission’s rules—kept you riveted, Gold Fame Citrus offers equally thorny moral terrain. In a drought-ravaged West, Luz and Ray make desperate, compromising choices to survive, much like the E2 crew bending ideals to keep their project (and public image) viable. You’ll appreciate how Watkins refuses easy heroes, letting necessity, pride, and love curdle into risky, ethically gray action.

If Boyle’s skewering of E2’s branding—the staged broadcasts, donor-pleasing stunts, and a charismatic outside leadership selling a grand vision—made you grin and wince, Super Sad True Love Story hits that same satiric sweet spot. Through Lenny and Eunice’s misfit romance in a near-future America obsessed with ratings and performative transparency, Shteyngart lampoons the same hype cycles and image management that plagued the Terranauts. It’s biting, funny, and painfully recognizable in the way ideals get packaged—and corrupted—for public consumption.