45 books like Ghosts

This graphic novel skews younger than the others on this list. It’s a heart-warming, slice-of-middle-school-life that revolves around the school’s musical theater production, from auditions and rehearsals, set-building and costumes, to opening night, the 3-show run, and even the cast party. It invokes the highs and lows of a production, including the inevitable malfunctioning props and inter-cast issues. I love this story’s emphasis on how fun it is to work on sets, costumes, lights, and sound, and how important stage crew is to the production.

Theatre Quotient: High. The bulk of the plot revolves around the show.

This is a story about a girl who loves animals but discovers she’s allergic to all creatures with fur. Megan does such a great job of portraying Maggie’s feelings so starkly and truthfully, that she comes across as one of the most relatable, heartfelt characters. And the illustrations are spot-on. There are also fun and realistic side characters, like her new friend Claire and her annoying but lovable little brothers. Maggie’s journey to finding the perfect pet despite all obstacles helps teach kids about never giving up (yet going about it honestly) and counting on those you’re closest to. I found all the characters to be sweet, honest, and relatable.

I absolutely love Remy’s writing style. It is so unique, quirky, and hilarious. I also love how she develops her characters, who are diverse and funny. The story is about Henry who wants to prove to his “helicopter” family that he’s not a “baby,” so he sneaks out to take an epic same-day trip by himself. His plans keep getting thwarted in comical ways. What I like most about this book is that the story is so layered (many little sub-plots and metaphors); it really has depth. I also love how Henry explores the meaning of friendship and family and how he ultimately learns to be a friend and accept love.

To me, Chunky just bursts with color, feeling, and frenzy. First and foremost, the art is beautiful, and the color palette is eye-catchingly unique. That just sucks you into the story, which is so funny and well crafted. It’s a loose autobiography; Hudi is an overweight, Jewish Mexican American kid who is trying to please his parents by fitting in and attempting various sports; meanwhile, he overlooks his true talents: drawing and performing. To help him cope, he conjures an imaginary (and hilarious) cheerleading mascot, Chunky. This is Hudi’s journey of finding self-acceptance. The book is so funny and imaginative, I could read it over and over.

One of my favorites, Wink is so funny, moving, and deeply personal. The main character, Ross, is diagnosed with a rare eye cancer (based on the author’s own experiences) and deals with that as well as a myriad of other issues (bullying, a crush, a best friend that’s moving away). What I love most is the character development. I swear I’ve met the same quirky people you’ll find in this book. There’s so much feeling poured into the story. There are also funny comics and rock music. What could be better?

Telling a personal story with comics. Raina wasn’t the first person to do it, but with Smile she finds a way to put herself out there that really resonates with children. Her endearing art style pairs perfectly with this honest storytelling.

Thanks to Raina, comics can do more than just entertain kids, they can comfort them.

First of all, I love that this is a super accessible graphic novel and that it directly addresses anxiety. Sometimes, it can be hard to convey anxiety in words alone, so I loved that this book provides visual elements to help portray how it feels, as well. I also loved that it showcases how anxiety can manifest itself physically—in this case, through stomachaches—which is one of the most common symptoms kids experience.

The book is autobiographical, so I also loved the insightful author/illustrator note at the end of the story that helps normalize (and encourage!) therapy, even for young kids. (Even better—she also illustrated some of The Babysitter’s Club graphic novels, so her illustrations are simple and vibrant in a familiar style that I enjoyed!)

I like that this book showcases what not to do when you encounter someone struggling with anxiety—as the book’s overzealous protagonist (prone to messes of all sorts!) discovers when she wants to help a classmate who’s so afraid of bugs that she won’t even play at recess.

When Veronica’s first instincts don’t work (humor, distraction, etc.), I loved that the book spotlighted a different mental-health tactic: exposure therapy or systemic desensitization, a technique that I haven’t seen other books introduce to children.

I also loved that the book specified that you can’t force someone to get over their fears; it has to be something they want for themselves. Instead, Veronica acts as an invaluable (and endearing!) support network for her friend when she decides to face her fears for herself.

I love the premise of this heavily illustrated, diary-style chapter book: It not only teaches kids that even monsters can get anxiety—but also that they can do something about it through the author’s method of breathing and mindfulness.

I loved how thorough it was, taking time to really lead kids through the process (what he calls Stop, Take Time To Think) as she considers her fears about giving a speech in school and whether those fears will actually happen—a pretty mature technique that I wish I had known how to tackle when I was growing up! I also loved the sweet relationship she had with her grandma (Bobbe) and how her whole family rallied around her to conquer her anxiety and reframe what it means to be brave. 

Ellie endeared herself to me as I read the ridiculous lengths to which she would go to avoid—no, sabotage—her own bat mitzvah simply to escape her extreme anxiety (and selective mutism).

But while the food fight and faking her own death were entertaining, what was most compelling was how the author pulled back the curtain not only on her Jewish faith and heritage but also on her panic attacks. As well as the coping techniques that she learned throughout the story to tame them in a way that made the little girl in me—also horrified at the thought of speaking, let alone singing, in front of a crowd—feel empowered not only to recognize my own anxiety but to also realize that I can do something about it.