91 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.

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.

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.

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. 

I was a teenager when I read the Stone of Tymora trilogy, and I remember the agonizing wait between book releases. This is a must-read for those looking for an adventure with pirates! This adventure somewhat runs along the events of another series based on R.A. Salvatore’s Drizzt Do’urden books. Sometimes those characters slip in, but our main character, Maimun, has his own journey.  

Despite being in the same universe, this trilogy is less complex to follow than the hefty lore across Drizzt’s books, but the mystery behind the stone in the title our hero has at the beginning will have you glued in your seat waiting for answers.  

Oh dear, I’m cheating again. Sort of. This isn’t really fantasy, either. It’s an adventure for young adults featuring teenage spy Alex Rider. But I love it too much to care, and besides, cheating is cool, kids! But there’s a specific reason why I’m finishing this list with Stormbreaker. Despite its exciting action, the book is written as a relatable and grounded affair. Alex Rider is an ordinary kid with ordinary problems. He’s ginger, often lonely, underestimated, and regularly cast aside. He’s relatable and that’s why I loved the books.

The film adaptation is a ridiculous charade of impossible stunts starring an incredibly handsome blonde-haired model and it feels like someone threw up confetti over a story that actually meant something to me. Fifteen-year-old me was justified in throwing his popcorn at the screen.