90 Books Like Willow

The story of Clay Jensen is both beautiful and repelling in that it forced me to consider the unseen impact my insecurities and actions may have had on others when I was a teen. I couldn’t imagine being a shy, bright, and likable California high school student unexpectedly thrust into the center of a girl’s suicide by being named one of the contributors to her death. But that’s the point. Neither can Clay. 

In his case, the only way to discover why he was included is to listen to a set of thirteen tapes made by the victim. These tapes take him on a journey of personal growth and transformation despite his only having the loosest of connections to her. In doing so, he takes us right along with him, considering how our briefest interactions could have profoundly impacted someone else.

Despite high school freshman Melinda’s refusal to speak, I was immediately drawn into this contemporary (1999) novel by the pitch-perfect, first-person voice in which she tells her poignant story.

Melinda isn’t abandoned on a desolate island like Karana or exiled to a barren cave like Ayla but shunned by her friends after busting an end-of-summer party by calling the cops; her refusal to speak renders Melinda similarly isolated and remote.

I especially admire the way Anderson’s deft narration plays out the paradox of silence giving voice to revelation. As Melinda comes to terms with her devastating secret—having been raped by an upperclassman—she finally speaks up and breaks her silence. 

I think this book is so relevant for teens today.

With fast-paced social media, teens are constantly feeling pressure to fit in and appear perfect. Ani seems to have it all in her adult life but is hiding behind a hardened shell after several traumatic events and demons from her teenage years. In those years, her desperation to assimilate with the popular group was painfully relatable as most women I know, including myself, were once in this situation.

This book demonstrates perfectly the mental (and social) rollercoaster that adults try to manage after trauma and physical assault. This is so important for both YA and Adult readers because…aren’t we all carrying some sort of trauma on our backs while still trying to "have it all"?

Girl in Pieces is such an important story for anyone who has gone through any addiction or trauma of any kind before.

Charlotte, the protagonist, is in pieces. At seventeen she’s lost more than most people lose in a lifetime and she’s learned how to forget her trauma in order to protect herself. This is a book about Charlotte surviving in a world that has taken so much, and the journey she undergoes to put herself back together.

Although this book tells a story of people being cruel to themselves, it is ultimately a book about learning how to be gentle with yourself.

This book is so ambitious! The author tackles emotional abuse, trauma, grief, survivor’s guilt, self-harm, complicated family relationships, and more without anything feeling glossed over. Main character Daya is prickly and hostile and can be difficult to root for at times, but her portrayal feels spot-on given all she has endured in her life. I’ve always been fascinated by roller derby and it’s brilliant the way the author built her plot around the sport so it is truly integral to Daya’s character’s growth and healing.

The narrator of We Are Okay was like a siren for me. Jorjeana Marie’s voice holds the pain of the main character Marin like a tiny secret clutched in her fist and hidden from view. You want to see it so badly, but you only get glimpses as she unfolds one finger at a time.

I love the delicate unraveling of this tragic story and how Marin’s loneliness gets under your skin, so you really feel it and feel for her. Like in What to Say Next, a death is a catalyst, but how the death is used in the two stories is entirely different. As an author, I enjoy studying these plot points to see how each author uses them to mold their style and voice. 

Jane, Unlimited is a marvelously constructed book that focuses on Jane, a girl grieving her aunt and making umbrellas, who gets an invitation to a mysterious island mansion. I am here for all mysterious island mansion books. This estate is named Tu Reviens–"You come back” in French. That is, of course, a clue to the premise. There are a couple of possible love interests, but it’s not a love triangle and I don’t think it would annoy the people who are dead set against triangles.

This is one of those books that catches you by surprise. I wasn’t sure I could handle all the death pervading this story from start to finish. But woven amidst the grief are determination and courage as Gauge and his friend Roux fight for survival and evade the authorities. By the end, friendship and hope twinkle through death’s veil and they’re out in full force by the epilogue. I love the magical wolf narrator, who may seem secondary to the plot but in fact mirrors Gauge’s and Roux’s despair from loss and intense need for love and family. In the end, friendship saves them all.

Everything about this book feels exquisite for me, from the rich worldbuilding, the slow burn romance, to the intricate magic system.

I rooted for the main characters from the beginning–a village girl in possession of forbidden magic, trying to protect her grandmother, and an exiled prince looking for vengeance. They start off as reluctant allies, but as they go through hardship and danger together, their relationship develops into something beautiful and meaningful.

I love how the story focuses on their personal growth, dealing with their past and coming to terms with what the future may hold for them.

As a child, one of my favourite stories, that went on to help shape my personal writing style, was The Whitby Witches by Robin Jarvis. As a care leaver I found the main characters, siblings who had been shunted between several foster homes because of the brother's psychic gift, relatable. The sister doesn't believe him - a brilliant source of conflict because all they have is each other, yet there's this huge wedge between them. But the best part is how well the author blends the magical with the mundane. There's a group of almost Lovecraftian creatures that can only be seen by those with The Sight, living alongside the villagers. I loved the idea of unseen people, just a shadow's width away, unknown things living side by side with a blissfully ignorant human populace. That contrast between the ordinary and fantastical had crept into a lot of my stories.