100 books like Girl in Pieces

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"?

Willow is such an important novel for any teen who has gone through a traumatic event.

Willow, a 17-year-old girl is dealing with grief over the death of her parents and the fact that she was driving the car that killed them. She’s had to leave behind her old home, friends, and school. But Willow has found a way to survive, to numb the new reality of her life, she is secretly cutting herself.

For every teen that has either cut themselves, drank to numb the pain, starved themselves, or done any sort of self-harm in order to protect themselves from their inward pain, this book is for you. Not only is this story about grief and guilt, but it is also about love and never giving up.

This is a haunting and uncomfortable book, in the best way; it’s one that you can’t stop thinking about because it raises difficult questions without providing easy answers. Barker writes about the immediate postwar period through the eyes of a German girl who must come to terms with what her country and her own family have done during the war. This book doesn’t gloss over anything; we see firsthand what the Soviet occupation means for the German civilian population, and we must grapple with questions of culpability and justice, of who deserves judgment and who has the right to mete it out.

The Island achieved an incredible feat by inducing two competing thoughts in my mind: this couldn’t possibly happen, and this could possibly happen! 

A family of four is on an Australian driving holiday and is unexpectedly allowed entry onto a privately owned Dutch Island. This isolated setting soon makes them vulnerable and reliant on others. I loved following the characters’ journeys as they grappled with how to protect themselves and their loved ones. They’re "ordinary everyday people" who are forced to take action—and there’s plenty of it! 

As with most of the best thrillers, there are multiple points of view that ratchet up the tension.

Black Helicopters is a terrifying book.

A fast-paced thriller, it takes you inside a radical survivalist cult from the perspective of the children who are growing up there. We’re immediately in a world that has its own rules. We’re reminded that children and young people know only what we tell them, and they do not question their parent’s choices easily. 

When a family is attacked, children will do anything to defend their world. Black Helicopters turns everything upside down in terms of your expectations and understanding, and makes you live inside a world under siege. It challenges all of your preconceptions and beliefs.

During a group summer vacation on a beachy East Coast hideaway, the age-old dynamics of young vs. old—and the have-a-lots vs. the have-less—are in full play. The result sounds like any number of 20th-century American literary dramas, until it becomes clear that the disasters that loom are far larger than any single-family or community. Millet’s playful, snarky novel is a portrayal of what may come as the young realize how thoroughly older generations have sold out their future. The adults may be lost, but the kids are alright.

Small as an Elephant is a book that I read aloud to my sons, but I needed as much as they did.

This story of 11-year-old Jack who is abandoned by his bipolar single mother and left to fend for himself in Acadia National Park is totally accessible and captivates young readers because of its emphasis on survival, but also delves into hard issues like mental illness and abandonment. I first learned about the book during a middle school English teachers’ discussion of “favorite books ever.”

There is a reason Louis L'Amour books remain popular. I wish I had the whole collection, and I read every one I can get my hands on. One I particularly recommend is Down the Long Hills, which is a slight departure from his usual tales. In this one, two children find themselves alone and pitted against weather, wilderness, warriors, and their own worry that they are too little for this journey. I could not help measuring my own knowledge and ingenuity against that of a seven-year-old boy and finding it wanting. Nor could I help admiring the resolve and sense of responsibility that would put most adults to shame. I'll be reading this one again, too.