64 books like The Kid Who Ran for Principal

What if James Bond were fifteen years old? Great question; let’s find out!

I love the idea of a kid being a great spy, not despite their age but in fact because of it. Being a kid gives Alex Rider access to places and situations where an adult would arouse suspicion. Alex gets all the cinematic spy gear that you expect from spy movies. He’s constantly underestimated because of his age—and that is exactly what makes him so powerful.

I think that’s really the theme across all these books, and what makes them so appealing to me: People don’t expect much of you because you’re a kid, but secretly you are so much greater than they could ever comprehend. 

You describe a book as “Ocean’s Eleven for teens,” and I am a hundred percent in.

Like most heists, this one has the cat burglar and the genius hacker and the femme fatale and the getaway driver—except this time, they’re all teenagers. What a dream!

I just love a good heist story. They have to be so carefully crafted, so tightly plotted, and as a writer I really admire any storyteller who can do that. All three books in the Heist Society series are remarkable feats of plotting and pacing. I got to see Ally Carter give an author talk once, and she spoke about just how hard it is to write something that looks this easy. That’s so true; it really stuck with me.

One of the things I like about this type of book is that the main characters often have a secret identity.

To their classmates or teachers or parents, they’re just an ordinary kid—but when they’re not being watched, they’re doing something important and impactful. I love the tension of worrying that their secret identity might get found out. In this series, the main character’s secret identity is that she’s an accomplished and influential restaurant critic and no one knows, not even her parents. 

I wrote my first book and started submitting it to publishers when I was eleven years old. I dreamed of publishing a book before I graduated from high school.

Ultimately, that didn’t happen—I was 25 by the time I sold my first book. So you can see why I loved a story about a character who lived my dream; a 14-year-old girl who becomes a bestselling author. Most people didn’t believe that kids can be authors, but seeing another kid do it—even if her story is fictional—makes it feel possible.

Who doesn’t love a middle school con artist with a heart of gold? Jackson Greene thinks he’s out of the scam business forever, until he believes that the fix is in on the next student council election. The only way he can take down the school bully and student council president candidate, Keith Sinclair, is to pull off the biggest con the school has ever seen. The diverse cast of characters makes this book feel like Ocean’s 11 for tweens. Each kid has his or her own “specialty” and Jackson is the guy who brings them all together. The book also reminded me of the Kiki Strike series, but in a more realistic setting. Could anything like The Great Greene Heist really happen in a middle school? Well, no, but the book is just a great time from beginning to end.

This graphic novel literally illustrates many ways in which the average school day is challenging to introverts, from the bus, to school hallways, to the cafeteria, to navigating pre-class chatter. Emmie is very in tune with her feelings and able to focus on drawing no matter the noise all around, but still questions her own value: “Does anyone ever see me? Do I want them to?” When the author drew Emmie with a disappearing mouth to show how others view her as mute—ooh, I got goosebumps. I adore a book that makes me go back and read it again the moment I finish it. 

Again, the amnesia thing! Imagine waking up in class and realizing six months have lapsed—and you have no idea what happened. Six Months Later reminds me of the high-school version of The Bourne series—suspects are everywhere, people know too much but say too little…you don’t know who to trust but something is majorly off and you have to figure it out—despite not being able to remember…

I think adult readers often write off (pun intended) Young Adult fiction as being juvenile, but some of the best thrillers I’ve read have had high-school/college-age characters. I adore reading books where characters are not merely analytical—they are deeply emotionally intelligent.

I love this book so much! It is about a small town in Louisiana, Fawn Creek (known as Yawn Creek to the residents) where the same 12 kids have been going to school forever until one day a new girl, Orchid Mason shows up and begins to mix things up. It’s about friendship, family, self-deception, and following your dreams. I absolutely loved it. Erin Entrada Kelly is such a master at showing the reader multiple perspectives, which greatly enhances the reading experience. 

What can I say? It’s the goated friendly freaks book.

This collection of super short connected stories stars one kid per tale. The kids are weird and wild, and something that has really stuck with me my whole life is that some of the kids are rotten and stay rotten. Not everyone needs to grow and change in 120 pages.

Let a character stink. Let a kid be a wet rat. Let a nasty teacher be eaten. Anyway, there’s this incredible way that the author employs a third-person limited POV that gets me every time, even on the hundredth read.

A few illustrators have graced the pages of this all-time favorite. I grew up reading an edition illustrated by the amazing Julie Brinkloe. I also have a copy illustrated by Adam McCauley, which I also really love.

I read this book during my school days, which we are often told are the best of our lives. I enjoyed school, overall, but did encounter more than my fair share of bullies and vindictive teachers. Reading in the school library became my favourite escape, and I devoured this book in one lengthy sitting. I was fascinated and appalled in equal measure by secret society The Vandals, who made the kids at my school look like rank amateurs! After reading this book, the reader is left shell-shocked and wondering if it’s better to comply or to ‘disturb the universe’ as Cormier provocatively puts it.